


Masterlist AU Chapter 1

by kelex



Series: The Masterlist of AU Series [1]
Category: Adam (2009), Casino Royale (2006), Charlie Countryman (2013), Confessions of a Shopaholic (2009), Hannibal (TV), Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Anal Fisting, M/M, Multi, Murder Husbands, Object Insertion, Omegaverse, TW: Blood, TW: Incest, TW: Violence, did I mention AU?, tw: non/dub con, you may need to check individual story tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alpha Hannibal Lecter and Omega Will Graham are a mated, bonded pair currently being detained at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.  Alpha Matthew Brown decided he's going to help Will out.  TW: non-con/dubious consent, tw: violence</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a/b/o Hannibal-Will-Matthew Brown (tw: non/dub consent, violence, forced heat)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Master List of AUs](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/153359) by collected by MummyHolmesIsUpset @ tumblr.com. 



> tw: non/dub-con. Please don't say you weren't warned. Forced heats, breeding collars, and breeding benches. tw: violence and cannibalism.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omega Will is forced into heat by another alpha.

There was something wrong with the food. He didn’t notice until the third, maybe fourth bite. It was harsh, bitter, but delicious all the same. And then he realized, after several horrified heartbeats, what he was tasting.

Thoramphimetatartrate, TAT, was used by breeders to encourage heats in betas and omegas who had been taking suppressants. While not illegal by any stretch, TAT was a very questionable substance.

Will was on suppressants. Not necessarily voluntarily; it was more a requirement for incarcerated omegas, ones who would be separated from their mated alphas. Given who his mated alpha was… suppressants had been okayed all the way from the top.

He flung the contaminated tray against the wall of his cell, but he could already tell it was too late.

“Will?” Hannibal heard the clatter of the tray against the shared wall of their cells. “Are you…” The question trailed off as his nostrils flared.

“I’m fine!” Will shouted back, even as he started to sweat. The cramps and the pain would start soon, and it didn’t matter. Because Hannibal’s nose would be scenting him, right about now, and maybe someone would notice what was happening. 

Somebody did notice.

“How are you feeling today, Mr. Graham?”

Will knew that voice; it fed him every day. Except now, he recognized it from when he was in here before. “Matthew?”

“Yes, sir.” Matthew’s voice was breathy and rough as Will’s pheromones drifted through the holes in the Plexiglass cage.

Hannibal’s breathing was raw and ragged, a sheen of sweat silvering his skin like dewdrops. His Omega was in heat, and he needed to service that need.

“William!” Hannibal’s fist pounded the glass of his cage as he saw Matthew Brown–the same as had once tried to kill him–approach Will’s cell.

Matthew turned around and gave Hannibal a lazy smile, then turned back to Will. “Now don’t worry, I’m going to take very good care of you. There was enough pure TAT in your tray to jump-start your cycle, and I can smell how well it worked. Unfortunately, that means you gotta go. Too many alphas in here, and we can’t afford to lose control.”

The latch to Will’s cell door opened, and a wave of pheremones lashed out. Matthew stumbled back from the almost physical force of it. “HANNIBAL!” Will screamed out, doubled over from the need.

“William!” came the answering bellow, and was punctuated by the desperate thud of body against glass.

Matthew was able to walk in Will’s cell and put a breeding collar around his neck. The cuffs attached to the collar kept a misbehaving omega from disrupting a breeding, and though Will struggled, the hints of Alpha scent leaking from Matthew’s pores kept him from winning.  
Matthew led Will out of his cage, and right in front of Hannibal’s. 

Will’s terrified eyes met Hannibal’s furious ones, and he couldn’t help a small noise. “Please, Hannibal,” he choked out, digging in his heels as Hannibal’s Alpha hormones drowned out Matthew’s. Will struggled with the collar, trying to get close enough to the holes to touch.  
Matthew stopped when Will stopped, and attached a leash to the collar. “You’re not behaving like a good omega,” he scolded. “But we can take care of that later.”

Hannibal’s teeth were bared, and his jaw was snapping like an animal’s. The whimpering cries of his Omega, the call of his name by his lover, both instincts were combining to drive him into a frenzy.

The urge to mate was flooding his body. He was obscenely erect, his knot already straining. His hair was plastered to his skin with sweat, and his fists clenched to the point of pain. Light smudges of blood decorated the glass from a cut on his scalp, and Hannibal snarled as he threw himself against the glass again.

Will was doing much the same. His body was pumping out chemically enhanced pheromones by the bucket, and his body was cramping with need for Hannibal’s knot. He could feel his muscles contracting and releasing, as if seeking a knot to cling to.

The heavy waft of Hannibal’s Alpha hormones made the ache worse, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Hannibal’s cock. Whimpering again, Will urgently rubbed against the glass wall.  
Matthew dragged Will away from Hannibal’s cell, fighting Will’s dead weight as he tried to stay behind. It took a long ten minutes, but he finally dragged Will past the point of Hannibal’s influence. “HANNIBAL!” Will shouted, one last time, and then they were outside. 

The scream of his name was the knife in Hannibal’s heart, and he couldn’t wait any longer. Picking up the desk chair, he hurled it at the Plexiglass, then the desk. Books followed, and then anything else that he could lay a hand on.

Wasn’t even aware security was coming.

Outside the hospital was a beat-up truck with a kennel in the back. Taking a knife from the glove box, Matthew quickly cut the hospital jumpsuit off Will’s body.

He salvaged two strips, and used one as a blindfold and the other as a gag. Then he used the leash to lead Will into the kennel. He locked the cage behind Will, then petted his hair. “Good boy, Will. I got something for you.”

Will shrank away, pressing blindly against the wall of the cage.

Matthew had come prepared, and from a paper bag withdrew a long pink dildo, with a flared tip and wide knot at the base.

Using the leash and collar, Matthew yanked Will around until he was chest down and ass in the air. He spread Will’s cheeks, exposing the hole between them.

It was opened wider than usual, and glistening with slick. It was ready to welcome Alpha cock, and Matthew had no problems pushing the dildo in.

Will tried to scream around the gag, but his body convulsed hard at the penetration. He sobbed instead, trying hard to expel the toy even as Matthew roughly shoved the knot past his opening.  
His entire body shook hard, trying to roll his hips and ass to make the toy move like a real Alpha would. His ass clenched hard around the knot, and he shifted until the base pressed against the bars of the cage.

Matthew had gotten into the truck, and was watching Will in the rearview mirror, rubbing his cock and pressing his knot as he watched Will humping the cage.

Will was almost weeping in frustration. He wanted Hannibal, couldn’t get the dildo to fuck him properly, and he was sore. 

Brown parked in front of an old hunting cabin, and turned the ignition off. He left Will in the kennel as he unlocked the house and dragged out the breeding bench. Covered in black leather and shackles, it came with a lever to help angle a beta or omega for optimal breeding position.  
Opening the straps and buckles was a chore, but pretty soon he was ready for Will, and he went to unlock the kennel.

Will was pressed against the door of the kennel. Reaching out, Matthew rocked the knot dildo in and out of Will’s slick hole. Will moaned behind the gag, weeping in both relief and humiliation. He and Hannibal played with knotting toys before, but never in this way, meaning to degrade. 

“Come down, Will, that’s it, slow,” he coached, leading Will to the bench. “Now, up!”

With Matthew’s help, the blindfolded omega crawled onto the table. His hands were released from the collar and cuffed to the table, and his ankles followed suit until he was tied, face-down and spread eagle over the table. 

The knot dildo was the last thing Matthew removed, and he quickly shifted to replace it with his cock.

Will did cry out behind the gag this time, the feeling of an unfamiliar cock filling him up warring with his body’s instinctual pleasure at being serviced by an Alpha.

Matthew’s chest pressed against Will’s back, and he slid his hands over the cuffs to hold Will’s hands in his own. "You feel so good, I don’t know how I waited so long,“ he whispered in Will’s ear. His cock was rutting hard and fast into the omega beneath him, and he nuzzled the sweaty ends of Will’s hair. "I’m going to breed you, and you’re gonna get huge carrying around all the pups I’m going to give you.”

It was the last thing he ever said.

* * *

Three security guards stood outside Hannibal’s cell. The Alpha was in a frenzy, pacing and snarling almost like he’d forgotten how to be human. 

“You better bring the tranquilizer gun, because I’m not stepping foot in there, not with Graham missing.”

“Yo, shut up, do you want him to kill you?”

They didn’t stand a chance. The gun was too large to fit through the holes in the Plexiglass, which meant that the door to Hannibal’s cell had to be cracked.

Hannibal’s body crashed into the door, shoving the gun into whomever was unlucky enough to be holding it.

He picked it up by the barrel, and used the butt to crush the skull of the first guard. He leveled the second guard with the rifle, but threw himself bodily onto the third.

His teeth ripped off the guard’s cheek and eyebrow, then he tore out an eye and spit it out. He drove his fingers into his brain and dragged out a handful of gray matter, which he swallowed whole.

Hannibal didn’t waste time. He tore the bloody jumpsuit off, and dressed in the second guard’s clothes and cap.

He couldn’t even smell blood; his nose was full of Will’s heat-scent. It made him want to drool, it was so thick and heavy. But he swallowed it down and followed it out the same door Matthew had taken. 

The truck was gone, but the knife was discarded on the ground. Hannibal picked it up and put it in his pocket, dragging his thumb along the edge.

Tire tracks led into the woods, and Hannibal followed at a run.

Will’s scent was still heavy in the air, and it left a clear trail for Hannibal to follow. He realized that there were drops of Will’s slick on the ground, not even long enough ago to get tacky and dry.

His nostrils flared, and he shifted his weight. This meant that Matthew Brown was touching what didn’t belong to him, making Will wet to the touch. He seethed in anger as he brought his fingers to his nose. Fear mingled with need in Hannibal’s nose, and he growled.

Will was afraid, and he couldn’t stand the thought of it.

He quickened his pace, and not long after, he heard voices. A voice, more specifically, issuing orders. “Come on, Will, that’s it. Slow. Now, up!”

Like Will was an animal. In his own mind, Will could’ve shredded Brown without batting an eye. But crippled by biological drive, he was close to helpless. 

Hannibal was seeing red, because he could see Matthew moving to mount Will but was too far away to prevent it.

He risked a quick descent, trusting that his quarry would be too enthralled with Will to hear him coming.

He almost lost his temper entirely when he heard Brown’s promise to breed Will properly, give him bastard pups. No; the only children Will would ever carry will be Hannibal’s. 

Coming from behind, Hannibal wrapped his hands around Matthew’s neck and twisted.

The man’s neck snapped with a loud crack, and Hannibal threw him backwards. He fought his needs for a long moment, fumbling at the fasteners around Will’s wrists and ankles. 

As soon as his hands were free, Will yanked the soggy gag out of his mouth. “Hannibal!” He knew that Alpha scent anywhere, and it made his belly lurch to smell the rut pouring out of Hannibal’s skin.

Hannibal didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead he caught Will’s face in both hands and kissed him hard and desperately. Not only the desperation of the rut but the separation of the hospital cells drove him to devour Will hungrily. 

And Will responded in kind, molding his body against Hannibal’s in growing need. He rubbed against his Alpha, whimpering softly into the kisses. Will was almost heat-drunk, and he needed Hannibal badly.

Hannibal quickly pushed Will to his knees, moving in behind him and shedding clothes with abandon. By the time he was naked, Will was on all fours, moaning softly. 

He’d not been this needy since his first mated heat, and Will knew it was the drug. But he spread his legs in invitation.

Moving quickly, Hannibal drove the length of his cock into Will’s slick opening. They both moaned, Hannibal at the hot clasp of Will’s muscles and Will at the familiar length of his mate’s cock.

Will lifted himself to press full length against Hannibal’s chest, and his lover’s arms came around to hold him tightly. “Bite,” Will begged, rubbing the top of his head under Hannibal’s chin.

A deep-throated growling was the answer, and Will ducked his head in submission. Hannibal’s teeth closed sharply on the nape of Will’s neck, and he couldn’t help giving him a shake.

Will’s entire body relaxed at the shake, feeling claimed by his Alpha. He spread his legs even further, tilting his hips in readiness.

Hannibal’s knot was more than ready. Will’s body was leaking slick fluid by the bucket, and his body had responded. His knot pressed hard against the stretched ring, making Will keen in agonized delight when it finally popped in.

Hot ropes of come started shooting out of Hannibal’s cock, and he kept Will’s hips tilted to take everything. His hands smoothed Will’s fevered skin even as he stroked Will’s cock.

Will was groaning softly, feeling every spurt sliding into the heat of his body. He couldn’t help smiling at the sensation, even as Hannibal’s cock started to thrust a second time. 

The knot kept them tied together as Hannibal’s cock drove hard. Hannibal’s fingers were rough on Will’s cock as they stroked, and the second orgasm hit hard when Will came all over Hannibal’s fingers. 

Flushed hot, over stimulated, and sated, Will collapsed.

* * *

When Will came to, he was inside the cabin. He was clean, obviously bathed, and well-loved. He hurt, but in a very satisfying way.

Hannibal was in the rough kitchen, frying something that smelled utterly delicious. Two places were already set, and two glasses of milk sat by the plates. 

Will sniffed the glass–whole milk. “You spoil me, Hannibal,” he said in a rough voice. He **_craved_** milk and protein after his heats.

“Nonsense. You’re mine; I provide for you.” Turning around, Hannibal served two thick steaks onto Will’s plate, and two more onto his own. “I had to be a little creative with the ingredients, this kitchen is abysmal.”

Will laughed. “Smells like meat to me,” he said, diving into his plate with gusto. “Rib and shoulder?” he guessed.

“Flank, not shoulder. Those were ruined by ink, as was one of the abdominal sections. But there’s enough stock for a soup tomorrow,” Hannibal replied calmly.

Still naked, Will stretched out a leg and ran his toes across Hannibal’s lap. “Or you could forget the kitchen woes and come take care of your omega once more before we run.”

“In that case…” Hannibal put his silverware down and held out his hand. 

The End


	2. murder husbands in jail (hannibal lecter/will graham)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The murder husbands are in prison--but so is Matthew Brown, who is still obsessed with Mr. Graham. Will plays on that to make Hannibal jealous.

"I never got the chance to say thank you for what you did. It's terrible that we never got to work together. Two hawks, chasing down the little birds."

"I'm sorry I didn't finish the job, Mr. Graham." He can barely breathe, afraid to miss a single word.

"You can call me Will, you know. I think you've earned that." In his cell, Will's head rests against the wall, lips curved in a satisfying smirk.

"Not yet I haven't. Not while he is still alive." His fists clench at the thought of what the papers say Hannibal made Mr. Graham do. Because he'd never believe otherwise.

"You mean Hannibal Lecter?" Will is thrilled to have a reason to say his husband's name, and his thumb rubs the silver ring on his left hand. He relished the pain of the tiny teeth gouged into his flesh forever. "I wasn't even able to do that."

"Maybe it's because we weren't working together," Matthew said wistfully.

Will's attention was piqued. "Yeah, you might be right about that. I've wondered what if, you know. A hundred times." His smirk got wider. "I used to dream about killing him with my hands. Strangling the life out of him, watching him slowly stop struggling under me."

A loud clang, of metal crashing to the floor, interrupted his recitation.

In the cell on the other side of Will's, Hannibal Lecter was enraged. He had not felt this bloodthirsty since… since the night he'd gutted his charming, beloved, and singularly infuriating Will.

His desk was overturned, papers fluttering like snowflakes to fall sadly to the ground. He paced the confines of his cell, prowling like a tiger.

"I think he heard you." Matthew's voice was stronger now. "But don't worry, Mr. Graham. If he tries to hurt you, I'll protect you."

Will clearly heard Hannibal's snarl, and his smirk turned to a smile. Not that he doubted Hannibal in the least, but it was still a rush to know that Hannibal still wanted him. It made him feel powerful, and well-loved. "I know you will, Matthew. I don't think anyone else could stand up to him the way you did."

Hannibal's fury rose with every word exchanged. He knew precisely what game Will was playing, and why. It infuriated Hannibal further that he was angry in the first place! It churned and boiled inside, and Hannibal realized he was flexing his fingers as if wrapping them around a knife handle.

"I think maybe if we'd done it together, it would have worked. We could have held Jack Crawford and that doctor dame off long enough to let Hannibal hang himself," Matthew said, closing his eyes to think about it.

Will's smile threatened to swallow his head. "Can you imagine?" he asked, knowing Matthew was doing just that. "You and me, side by side, back to back? Dancing around, watching Hannibal choke on his own tongue while we're fighting? I punch, you punch, I duck when you kick, moving perfectly together, like we're both parts of the same machine."

Matthew's breaths were coming in hard, panting bursts. Mr. Graham's voice painted such a beautifully violent picture in every shade of red. Maybe he'd even embrace Matthew, a victor sharing the spoils with his partner. But he didn't dare speak it, because he hadn't earned it.  
Spilling Lecter's blood again, that would earn it. Licking his lips, all he could do was listen to the spell cast by Mr. Graham's voice.

Hannibal was on the edge of violence. A bellow was building in his chest, a pressure that threatened to explode him into nothingness.

Impotent fury swirled in his blood, and if he could've reached Will's throat, he'd strangle the life from him, bring him back, and prove to Will exactly who he belonged to.

And then they'd take care of Mr. Brown together.

But Hannibal was helpless; he couldn't stop listening to Will's voice, and he knew exactly how pathetic that made him.

"We'd have to run together," Will mused, knowing that he would have to stop soon or risk pushing Hannibal too far. It was a very fine line he walked, because without Hannibal, he was nothing. "Stay out of sight while the body is found. Let suspicion die down a bit. Then we find our next little bird."

"We'd have to cut him open before we run. Take his heart, eat it later. Share his power, Mr. Graham. Become better, stronger."

Funny. That one tiny statement ended the game.

He already had Hannibal's heart, inscribed in silver on the ring he wore. He already shared Hannibal's power, had already become the animal that hunted at his side.

The lights started going out, and the PA system announced Lights Out!

"Goodnight, Matthew."

"Goodnight, Mr. Graham. Sweet dreams." Matthew rested his hand on the wall in the cold darkness.

Will rolled, dragging his cot to the wall he shared with Hannibal. He didn't speak loudly, knowing Hannibal would hear. "I'm sorry, Hannibal."

Hannibal heard. He didn't want to answer. He didn't want the softly offered apology to dim his rage.

But it did. Because he could forgive Will anything. "I know, Will."

Will pressed his left hand to the wall. "You know I love you."

Hannibal's hand was pressed against the wall, reaching for Will through the solid rock. The distress in his husband's voice made him want to tear down the wall. "I never doubted that for a moment."

"We're going to kill him."

"No. I am. With great pleasure. And then I will have you, on top of his bleeding and still-warm corpse. I will have you screaming for me, begging for me to let you come. And I will, because I cannot bear to see you suffer. But you will regret teasing me, my William."

Will's breath caught in his throat, and his nails scratched helplessly at the wall. "I don't think I can wait much longer." 

He wasn't sure what he meant.

"You won't have to. I promise you that." Hannibal kissed the back of his hand and wished it was Will's. "A plan is being thought of and arrangements are being made for us."

The quiet kiss made Will smile, and he left his hand against the wall. Hannibal's words were light at the end of a long tunnel, and sometimes, Will realized, _I love you_ was the same thing as, _I never doubted it._

"Goodnight, Hannibal."

"Goodnight, my William."

Behind his closed eyelids, Hannibal imagined slit wrists and bitten hearts until he fell asleep.

The End


	3. jealous will graham (explicit sex, rough sex)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will smells another man's cologne on Hannibal and it makes him exceptionally jealous. Hannibal takes advantage of that fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a little rough, if you like being pushed up against a ladder.

Will's nostrils flared. His sense of smell might not be as acute as Hannibal's, and God knows he didn't walk around sniffing people like a certain psychiatrist did. But he knew quite well what Hannibal smelled like.

And he didn't ordinarily smell like _Acqua di Gio pour homme_ , that's for damn sure. Will hated that cologne; it tickled his nose and left a metallic after image. He always threw the sample cards in the trash and ripped them out of magazines. 

It wasn't just the office, either. The ventilation was too good for that, because the scent wasn't heavy in the air. It was _Hannibal_ and Will…

Was jealous. 

"Good evening, Will, right on time. Please come in," Hannibal said, holding the door open for Will to enter.

Will didn't say a word as he stomped angrily into the office and hurled his jacket down on the lounge. He stalked around Hannibal's office, looking uncannily like one of his dogs as he scented the room.

Hannibal watched with barely concealed curiosity as Will moved around the office. Body language was a clear indicator for Will's mood, and he was displaying all the signs of being furious. His face was drawn in tightly, arms crossed over his chest to close himself in, legs and shoulders squared to define his space and act as a dare. **Cross this line, he who dares.**

Hannibal often dared, knowing that simple physical contact and reassurance was the key to breaching Will's walls. He dared today, reaching out to lay a hand on Will's shoulder. 

Instead of relaxing, Will felt himself tensing under Hannibal's touch. His muscles bunched in an effort to throw Hannibal's hand off his shoulder, but didn't actually follow through on the action.   
He jerked away instead, rubbing the place where Hannibal had touched him. "Keep your hands off me."

It wasn't often Hannibal was surprised by Will's behavior, but this reaction left him stunned. "Of course. Please," he added, indicating Will's usual chair in invitation. "Would you like to talk about whatever is bothering you?"

Will didn't sit. "No."

Hannibal remained on his feet as well. "You seem agitated this evening," he said simply, seeking the right opening that would encourage Will to speak.

Will was still pacing the room, trying hard to decipher exactly why he was feeling like mutilating someone with his bare hands because of goddamn cologne.

Hannibal was not helping matters, staying preternaturally still while managing to keep Will under observation. It was making him nervous, jumpy, _hard as a goddamn rock._ "Did you fuck him, Dr. Lecter? Right over the desk, maybe the lounge?" The words came out before he knew that he wanted to say them. "Or maybe it was him writhing on top of you; you stink." He was snarling almost in his distaste. 

Hannibal did not show any outward reaction to Will's anger-fueled outburst. "I'm certain I don't know what you mean," he said calmly. "If you suspect that I have acted in an untoward manner with any of my patients, you must speak plainly and allow me to defend myself against the accusations."

"I think I'm being very clear," Will bit out. "Whomever has the appointment before mine, he stinks of cologne–and so do you. Not just the office; _you_. "

"Presuming for the moment that this fantasy of yours is true, what business is it of yours how I conduct my private affairs?" Hannibal rarely tried to incite Will's dark side so obviously, but since the normal slow path wasn't working, he hoped to use this unexpected windfall to his advantage. 

"If you'd called to cancel, you wouldn't have had to cut your fun short!" The mocking lilt in Will's voice sounded jealous and bitchy to his own ears. "But you make it my business, Doctor, when every time I come here, you make it clear that you're personally invested in my treatment."

"Of course I am, Will. You are my friend, and I only want what's best for you," Hannibal protested, with just the right amount of sincerity. 

"Liar!" Will exploded, spinning on his heel and lashing out. He cleared the desk of everything on it. "How many times have you thought about it, me and you, here on this desk? A lot? All the time?" He stalked around until he was face to face with Hannibal. "In your dreams?"

Hannibal did not blink, nor did his breathing quicken, but his pulse was elevated, pounding hard enough that he thought it might be visible. "Whatever I might think about is no business of yours," he responded evenly, proud that his voice remained steady. 

"Wrong," Will snapped. "I feel you in my head, Doctor, squirming and twisting and whispering. You want me to want you, I feel it, in the back of my head like an itch I can't scratch." He put his hands on Hannibal's suit and shoved. 

Hannibal stumbled back, catching himself against the library ladder. His hands wrapped around the rungs to keep himself from reaching out for Will. "And do you want me?"

Will laughed, dragging his hands over his face before grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Hannibal let go of the ladder, reaching out to pull Will's hands away from his face before he hurt himself. "Do you want me, Will?" he repeated quietly, needing to hear the answer.

"You already know the answer to that." The simple touch of Hannibal's hands on his wrists deflated the anger, leaving a hollow ache behind.

"Perhaps, but you also need to speak it. Admitting to yourself and to me that there is an issue here is the first step to solving it."

That piqued the fire again. "I'm not going to pander to your ego, Dr. Lecter." Will's fists clenched as the anger tried to bubble back up. "I know you want me to want you. Why?"

"Because you are meant to be mine," Hannibal breathed. "Perhaps you know this to be true, and this is why you are enraged. You know, but you cannot admit that you know, that I am meant to be yours."

Will's fists rose to clench Hannibal's lapels, and Hannibal made no struggle to break free. "You are mine, Hannibal."

The angry kiss that followed was nothing more than teeth and tongues as weapons, stabbing and biting and sucking to see who would win.

Will won when Hannibal softened against him. The formal stiffness disappeared, and there was an almost human quality to the pliancy. He kept his fist in Hannibal's jacket, not letting him pull away. "Mine," Will said again, nipping at Hannibal's lower lip. "Mine."

Hannibal was caught between the ladder and Will, neither one offering the softness or gentleness he didn't want. He ran his tongue along Will's teeth as Will nibbled his lip, and brought one hand up to Will's face. "Mine," he said softly, almost reverently.

"Yes," Will answered, closing his eyes. Hannibal's declaration of possession made him relax, let the tension slide out of his shoulders and legs. Leaning forward, he pressed Hannibal even harder against the ladder, letting him support both their weights.

Hannibal willingly accepted Will's closeness, and drew him in so that there was no space between them. One hand rose to cradle the back of Will's head, the other holding him close.

Will luxuriated for a moment in the embrace, drawing in a deep breath. Hannibal overwhelmed almost everything, except for a bare hint of _Acqua di Gio_ that drifted up from his clothes. 

His jaw stiffened. "Take your clothes off," he growled.

Hannibal's jaw twitched when Will interrupted his reverie, but his nostrils flared at the demand. "Perhaps I should cancel the next appointment."

"Let them wait, let them smell _me_ all over you, let them know you're mine, not theirs." Will started shoving at Hannibal's coat, pushing it off his shoulders and tearing at the waistcoat buttons. 

For once, Hannibal had no real concern for his wardrobe, shedding his coat without reservation. It fell through the rungs and Will kicked it out of the way.

Will's attention moved to his own clothes, and was surprised when Hannibal stopped him. "Let me," managed to sound like a softly supplicating prayer, and he dropped his hands obediently. 

Hannibal left his own clothes half-removed and turned his attention towards Will's. The hideous vest was first to go, getting kicked aside to join Hannibal's coat. 

The ugly gray Henley was next, tearing at the seams as Hannibal yanked and tugged until it was over Will's head and on the floor.

His hands smoothed over Will's skin like fine porcelain, breakable and breathtaking. He cataloged every dip, every rib (too thin, must fatten him up), every flawless inch of canvas waiting for Hannibal's brush. He leaned in, dared to kiss the juncture of neck and shoulder, savoring the salt and heat.

Will led Hannibal's hands to his belt, then brought his hands up to his head. "Bite, I know you want to mark me where everyone can see, just like I want to mark you," he whispered in Hannibal's ear.

Hannibal's hands locked tightly on Will's belt, afraid of hurting Will if he touched him. Part of him couldn't believe he was being allowed; the beast roared and bared its teeth before sinking them into Will's vulnerable flesh.

Will cried out, fingers tightening in Hannibal's hair as his hips rocked. His erection ground against Hannibal's, and suddenly he wanted all their clothes gone. "Hannibal, yes," was all he could get out as he shuddered.

Sucking on the bite let Hannibal taste more salt, more sweat as Will's body started to boil in the heat building between them. He rocked against Will's thrusting hips, keeping his hands on Will's belt.

Will dropped his hands to rest over Hannibal's, guiding them to his belt buckle. Then he reached for Hannibal's shirt, yanking it untucked before pulling the zipper down. The button was last, and Hannibal's pants fell to the floor in a pool around his feet. Will started tugging at Hannibal's underwear, cupping his cock through the fabric. 

Hannibal didn't notice. He was focused wholly on Will's body, on the skin that he was being allowed to worship. He pushed Will's jeans down past his knees, sliding his hands inside blue boxers that had seen better days. 

He gasped when he felt Will's hands on his body, vaguely resentful of the fact he was being interrupted in his exploration. But his breath caught when Will finally freed his cock. "Will, you are exquisite," he breathed out.

Will's laugh was breathy. "I've been called everything before, but not exquisite." But he liked it, especially when it was Hannibal saying it.

Hannibal could've composed poetry (cold white marble, warming to a lover's touch, Galatea's envy wakens for me) to Will, but now was not the moment. Instead he caught Will's mouth in a desperately hungry kiss. 

Will grunted lewdly as their bare cocks touched, and he reached to capture them together. Hannibal's moans vibrated in Will's mouth at the stroking, and he broke to rest his forehead against Will's. "Will."

"Turn around," Will ordered, kicking his pants off entirely. He released Hannibal's cock and stepped back to allow just that much movement. 

Hannibal did as he was told. "My desk."

Will nodded, and rested his hand on Hannibal's back. "Don't move."

He had no intention of it. 

Will left Hannibal against the ladder, and opened the only unlocked drawer. Inside was a crystal jar, about the size of a baseball, and Will's fist tightened around it. The crystal edges cut into his palm as he carried it back to the ladder. "Is this what you used?" Will demanded, hands shaking as he imagined Hannibal like this with anyone else. "Did he fuck you, or just blow you?"

Hannibal just shook his head. "There wasn't anyone," he protested.

"Liar," Will hissed, unscrewing the lid. 

It was nearly half full, showing the indents of fingers collecting the slick gel. He shoved the open jar in Hannibal's face, pushing his finger to its full length in Hannibal's opening.

Hannibal braced on the rungs of the ladder when Will's finger entered him. "That's for personal use," Hannibal pointed out truthfully. He'd bought it when Will became his unofficial patient. 

"You've obviously gotten action," Will sneered, even though he could feel otherwise. He was only just able to work a second finger in, and he pressed his forehead against Hannibal's back. "Fucking him must've felt good." 

The burn of Will's fingers stabbing into him made Hannibal's cock throb, and he reached to touch himself, but stopped. "Touch me, Will, do you think I could be this hard having fucked another?"  
Will left the jar on the bookshelf and put his hand in Hannibal's. And Hannibal led Will's hand back to his cock. "This is all for you, Will."

Will stroked Hannibal's cock firmly, matching his fingers. "Damn right it is." He almost didn't recognize his own hoarse voice. "Don't forget it."

Hannibal shook his head as he shivered. "Do not forget that the reverse is also true," he rasped, licking his lips and finding the taste of Will's skin lingering there.

"How could I?" Will withdrew his fingers before reaching out for the jar on the bookshelf. His fingers closed around Hannibal's, reaching for the same thing, and he almost dropped it. Even as close as they were, a brush of fingertips was enough to make him lose his composure.

Hannibal steadied the jar until Will's grip shifted, and let it go.

Will's fingers dug out a generous dollop, liberally smearing the slick gel all along the length of his cock. Leaning forward, he grabbed Hannibal's hips, tilting them to meet the head of his cock as he pushed. 

Hannibal's hands gripped the ladder tightly as Will entered him. He was focused on relaxing, not sure until the actual moment of entry if Will was going to hurt him or not.

He had to close his eyes, imagining Will's face as he moved, seeing the ecstatic expression start in his eyes and spread out to the rest of his face, ending in a smile worthy of Botticelli. 

Will's hands were going to leave bruises; they were already forming under the mauling grip he had on Hannibal's hips. But it was the only way to hang on in the maelstrom. He could hardly breathe, buried inside Hannibal's body. He was fighting the urge to rut mindlessly, determined to feel everything that he could feel. His forehead rested on Hannibal's shoulder, and he slowly shifted his weight before moving.

A slow pull backwards had Hannibal moving too, straining to keep Will's cock inside. His muscles squeezed, trying to hold him in.

Will gave a strangled noise when Hannibal clenched hard around him. He shuddered, driving the length of his cock back into Hannibal's tight hole. The pace picked up quickly, and Will's hands covered Hannibal's on the ladder, then linked them together. 

He bit hard at the nape of Hannibal's neck, below the hairline but above the collar line, where it could be seen–and known how he got the mark.

The sharp pain of Will's unexpected bite and the tenderness of their joined fingers was completely occupying Hannibal's mind. He couldn't feel everything at once, but neither could he separate from it. He wanted to sob from the shattering beauty, but only a single tear eased down his cheek. 

It fell to splash on the rungs of the ladder, and Will felt the splatter. He couldn't have stopped even if he'd wanted, but he didn't want to hurt Hannibal either. 

No other tears fell, and Will pulled his hands away to wrap his arms around Hannibal's waist. Yanking roughly, he pulled Hannibal's back against his chest. "Mine," he whispered, rubbing rough fingertips over Hannibal's nipples. "Mine," he said again, stroking Hannibal's cock roughly and wringing a cry out of him. "Mine," he said, one last time, and laid his hand flat over Hannibal's pounding heart.

The possessive touches were nearly more stimulating than the pounding of Will's cock. Hannibal couldn't stop the trembling of his arms, and Will's hands slid up and down them, offering support. "I want to see you come, Hannibal," Will murmured, knowing that it would be his undoing.

Hannibal didn't speak, didn't trust himself to even speak English at the moment. When Will's words penetrated, Hannibal gave a wordless cry. His body unconsciously shifted in Will's arms, and it caused Will's cock to nudge Hannibal's prostate. 

Will's entire body locked at the throaty shout from Hannibal's lips. He wasn't quite sure what he'd done, but he angled himself to do it again.

Hannibal was quickly becoming over stimulated. He was concentrating on feeling Will, on his hands and his skin and his cock that the purely sexual thrill of being fucked was paling next to reveling in Will's possessive jealousy. 

He whined softly, his cock thick and heavy with the need to come but everything else was drowning it out.

Will's hand wrapped around Hannibal's cock, stroking it roughly as though he knew what Hannibal wanted. "Just feel," Will whispered in his ear, thumb grinding down against the head. "Feel me, I've got you."

The harsh touches, the twist of a wrist, the teasing of his sensitive shaft beneath the foreskin, all the pleasure from these simple touches flooded Hannibal at once. It washed over him in waves, shuddering around Will's cock as he came over Will's stroking hand.

Hannibal leaned heavily against the ladder, sated and loose-limbed.

Will watched entranced as Hannibal came, feeling the twitch of hard cock in his hand. It looked much like his own, thick and creamy spurts that covered his hand. 

The sudden relaxing of Hannibal's body made Will smile, and he pressed himself full length against Hannibal's back. "Don't you want to fuck me now?" Will's whispering was rough and uneven. "Make me feel everything you're feeling, turn me into jelly, putty in your hands."

Hannibal brought his head up, bracing against the ladder as he feels Will drawing near. "Will, my William, you have no idea what I would do to you." Panting hard, Hannibal surged back against him, squeezing Will's cock tightly.

Will came all too quickly. He had meant to further mark Hannibal by coming over his back, but the rush took him by surprise. His hands were locked around Hannibal's waist, pulling him in close as he rode out the last short spurts, then leaned heavily on Hannibal. 

Hannibal let the ladder support both their weights. He was breathing heavily, but he did not care. "I don't suppose you could join me for dinner tonight?" His hands played gently with Will's fingers as he waited for the answer.

Will's cheek rested against Hannibal's back, but he opened his eyes at the request. "After… you're still interested?"

Hannibal smiled, though Will couldn't see. "The cologne you found so infuriating was courtesy of a spritzer working diligently at Saks, where I spent an hour this afternoon ordering some replacement cookware. I am quite flattered, however."

Will let his cock slide out of Hannibal's body at that. "Then I–and you just–Hannibal!" Will was clearly mortified. 

Hannibal turned around and caught Will's arm. "Yes. And I am not sorry."

Will's eyes flared at that. "I didn't say I regretted anything," he started, but Hannibal interrupted. 

"Then that is a yes to my invitation, and a yes to your question." Hannibal's eyes all but glowed in the soft light of the office lamp.

Will regarded Hannibal for a long moment, trying to slip into his mind. When that failed for the moment, he just stepped into Hannibal's arms. This man was his now, come hell or anything else. 

Hannibal's arms wrapped around Will and drew him in close to the fire in the fireplace. "I think between the two of us, we can piece together enough clothing to get us home."

Will just laughed softly. "We only need to make it to the car."

End


	4. lecter triplets and the graham-raki-brandon family (tw: INCEST, tw: threesomes/ot3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lecter triplets (Hannibal, the eldest, Jean "Le Chiffre" Durand, the middle child, and Nigel, the youngest) have a little bit of family fun, while their better halves (Will Graham, his half-brother Adam Raki, and cousin Luke Brandon) have a little fun themselves. (tw: incest, obviously)
> 
> Pairings are: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham, Nigel Lecter/Adam Raki, Jean Durand aka Le Chiffre/Luke Brandon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: incest, tw: threesomes/ot3

"I suppose the chocolate was his idea?" Jean's toes were pointing at Nigel while his head was tilted back to regard his other brother.

Hannibal sighed as he carded his fingers through Jean's hair. "For certain. My vote was a nice merlot, but I was regrettably outvoted."

"Adam?"

"Mmm. Luke as well; my William was the sole hold-out."

Jean just shook his head. "Well, there's always next time."

Hannibal was reclining back, against a cushion that was mostly there for show. But he'd appropriated it for his own comfort, and then Jean had appropriated Hannibal for _his_ comfort. So Hannibal had contented himself with playing with Jean's hair. "Next time, we will be doing things solo," Hannibal reminded with a soft laugh. "Or at least, we're tying Nigel up and dangling him from the ceiling."

"Don't forget to gag him," Jean suggested, closing his eyes and imaging exactly that.

"It would simplify things a great deal," Hannibal agreed. 

"Oi, you fuckers, stop talking about me!" Nigel had Adam tucked into his elbow, and he was flipping off his twins with the other.

"Pity I left Luke's gag at home."

Hannibal kissed the corner of Jean's mouth. "Come now, my brother, are you really that uncreative?"

"Are you thinking what I think you're suggesting?" Jean craned his neck to look at Hannibal. He was the eldest, by twelve minutes, and Jean had followed, and Nigel last, seven minutes after Jean, and so they instinctively followed their eldest triplet. 

"Yes, I do believe I am." Hannibal stretched under Jean without dislodging him.

"We haven't done anything like that since we were teenagers."

"Then don't you think it's time to renew the lessons?" Hannibal dragged his teeth lightly over Jean's ear before licking the shell.

Jean moaned softly as Hannibal's mouth moved down his neck, and he turned to more fully take advantage of the trailing kisses.

Will Graham studiously ignored the soft moans, leaning towards Adam and attempting to distract him more fully.

Nigel growled softly when Will tried to draw Adam's attention, but when Will said, "Go hose your brothers down," Nigel got the message.

Nigel stomped over to his brothers, and Will gave Hannibal a wink. Hannibal acknowledged with a tip of the head, and when Nigel got to them, Jean and Hannibal nodded at each other and pulled Nigel's feet out from under him.

Nigel swore loudly, startling Adam, but by the time he'd looked up, Nigel had been quieted. He was pinned beneath the mostly-naked bodies of his brothers, and not for the first time. Their hands were everywhere, four hands massaging his skin, stroking his cock into rock hardness, sliding between his lips and beneath the scant material of his underwear.

Hannibal's hands were stroking Nigel's cock and pulling at his clothes, and Jean removed his fingers to brutally kiss Nigel's mouth. 

Nigel growled, arching into Hannibal's hands and trying to squirm closer to Jean. But each of his brothers pinned a wrist or an ankle, keeping him effectively immobile. 

Jean's tongue pushed in Nigel's mouth, teeth nipping and biting sharply. One bite drew blood, and Jean drew back to share that with Hannibal.

Hannibal dipped his mouth to cover Nigel's, licking and soothing the bitten lip while Jean kissed down his chest. He ignored the hideous pinup tattoo, disregarded his throat entirely, and went straight to his nipples instead. 

Nigel moaned into Hannibal's mouth, straining to lift his hips and slide his underwear down. His cock was hard and wanting, trapped behind his too-tight black shorts.

Jean obliged the thrusting hips, peeling the black fabric off Nigel's body and freeing his hungry cock.

When they were younger, less developed, they had not had to take turns. Hannibal had vivid memories of both Jean and Nigel, cradled between their bodies, both of them filling him as he rocked in their laps.

Nigel and Jean had similar memories, and it took no time at all to change into familiar positions.  
Nigel found himself cradled between both his brothers, and he reached for Jean, fusing their mouths as he offered himself to Hannibal. 

Instead, Hannibal grabbed Nigel's jaw and turned his head around, possessing his mouth with a deep jealousy. Jean pressed his chest along Nigel's back, his hands stroking the curve of his ass.  
Nigel's hands were busy with freeing Hannibal's cock, tongue stroking into his brother's mouth. He'd almost forgotten that deep, spicy taste that defined Hannibal, so different from Adam's sweetness.

There was enough oil lying around the photo set to float a battleship, and there were bottles everywhere. Jean found one within arm's reach and slick fingers were already probing Nigel's opening.

Nigel groaned, resting his forehead against Hannibal's as he teased Hannibal's lips with kisses even as he spread his knees wide for Jean.

Jean pulled Nigel back against him as he slowly eased his cock into his stretched opening.  
Nigel's groan made his whole body shudder, and he dragged his nails over Hannibal's chest as he scrabbled for balance. Once Jean was fully sheathed, he nuzzled the side of Nigel's neck. "Take care of your brother, Nigel."

"And just what does Hannibal want?" Nigel growled softly, leaning towards his brother. "Nice big cock to suck, get that pretty face covered in come?" Jean thrust forward with every single word. 

"Maybe he wants an ass full of cock," Jean suggested. "Fuck him until he's begging you to let him come."

"Yes, please," Hannibal purred, hands reaching out for Nigel.

"Yes to which one," Nigel teased, scraping his nails through the hair on Hannibal's chest. 

"Maybe both," Jean murmured, giving Nigel a particularly deep thrust. "Give him your cock, cher. Make him choke on it."

Nigel dragged Hannibal against his chest, pushing him down while Jean started fucking him in earnest. Every thrust made his cock throb, until Hannibal's mouth wrapped around the length.  
Jean became almost savage in his thrusts, the power behind his thrusting pushing Nigel's cock into Hannibal's throat. Nigel's hands were locked in Hannibal's hair, yanking him down until his throat tightened.

Hannibal was clinging to Nigel, letting Jean's need drive the three of them. His hands stroked Jean's hips, down over his ass, and he pressed the tip of his thumb into Jean's opening.  
Jean moaned softly, and leaned his weight against Nigel, trying to get closer to Hannibal's hands. But Hannibal had his eyes closed, concentrating on Nigel's cock in his throat. 

The fingers in his hair had gone lax, and Hannibal took advantage, bobbing his head and falling into sync with Jean. 

Nigel felt like he was floating; the mouth on his cock and the cock in his ass were pushing him back and forth and all he could do was hang on for the ride. He was getting close, grunting and swearing at both his brothers.

Jean's laughter was harsh and breathy, and he leaned forward to bite Nigel's neck. He sucked hard on the bite, licking over the tender skin. "What do you think, Hannibal? Should we let him come?"

Hannibal's lips popped obscenely as he pulled his mouth off Nigel's cock. "Yes, of course," he murmured, his hands rising to stroke Nigel's cock.

"You're always too good to him," Jean said wickedly, reaching around to push Hannibal's hands away from Nigel's cock and began to stroke it himself, agonizing slow and roughly. 

Hannibal pursed his lips, rubbing them over the head as it peeked through Jean's fist, and he was busy stroking his own erection as he waited for the hot splash of Nigel's come onto his face.  
"Of course I'm good to him, he's my brother." Hannibal's teasing tongue licked over the head of Nigel's cock.

"Fuck, Jean, let me come," Nigel demanded, trying not to whine. His cock was a single long ache between his thighs as Jean denied him release.

"Yes, Jean, let him come," Hannibal urged again, and worked his fingers deeper into Jean.  
Jean's shout was buried in Nigel's neck, biting down hard enough to draw blood. He felt Hannibal cheating, reaching deep to rub against his prostate. 

Nigel swore loudly, body shuddering as Jean's fist tightened around his cock. He grabbed Hannibal's hair to balance against, and Hannibal allowed it.

Jean's orgasm hit him in a rush, rocking his hips to ride Hannibal's fingers while pounding into Nigel. 

Hannibal licked his lips, and leaned forward to lick over Nigel's cock and Jean's fingers together.  
Nigel couldn't have stopped if he'd wanted to. Jean's fist stroked one last time, and the thick streams landed like rain on Hannibal's face. It ran down his cheeks, dripped off his nose and coated his lips and tongue as he opened his mouth for the last spurts.

Jean was buried to the hilt when he came, shivering hard with each pulse of his cock. He kept a grip on Nigel's hip, keeping him full until every drop had been wrung out of them both.

Exhausted, Nigel lifted himself from Jean's cock and rolled over onto his belly. Reaching out, he took Hannibal's cock and rubbed it against his face, letting the unshaven scruff scratch and abrade his brother's sensitive skin. 

Leaning towards him, Hannibal fisted his own cock, spilling his come into Nigel's waiting mouth.

All three brothers lay in a sweaty, panting heap, petting and stroking whatever bits of each other they could reach.

"Hey, where's Adam?" Nigel demanded after a moment had passed and his little star was nowhere to be found. 

"He's with Will, they left a long while back." Jean gave a languid stretch underneath the others. "Luke too, ma petite cher kicked out the crew and locked up. He looks out for me."

"If he's with Will, he's safe," Hannibal added. "We'll see in a moment. "

Adam's head leaned back against Will's shoulder. His brow was furrowed, but Will's kisses were warm and soothing. "Y-y-you're sure that Nigel isn't tired of me?"

Even Luke heard the quiet fear of that tiny question, but it was empathetic Will, Will who always knew how to relate to Adam, who had the right words. "Nigel would never be tired of you. Anyone who bothered to notice can see that you have him wrapped around your finger." Another line of gentle kisses along his cheek. "Just sometimes, brothers play rough together and then things happen. It's not your fault."

Luke knelt beside his cousins and petted Adam's hair. "Jean loves me, Hannibal loves Will, and Nigel's devoted to you. But they play sometimes, like me and Will, remember that?"

Will gave Luke a grateful smile. "Yeah, like the day of the pool party, remember? You found me and Luke in the pool house and we asked you to lock the doors and you watched us?"

Adam nodded hesitantly. "I remember. I thought you were going to be mad at me, but all you said was to lock the door behind me and come on in."

Will grinned against Adam's hair, and kept his hands linked together over Adam's stomach. "And do you remember what you watched?"

Obviously he did, because the blushing started somewhere in Adam's chest and spread upwards to bloom onto his cheeks. "I remember," he confessed quietly. 

"Well, it's the same with Nigel and Jean and Hannibal, that's all," Luke explained. 

"I, uh, I, uh, I want, I mean, do you think Nigel will be mad if I kiss you?"

Luke raised his eyebrow, and Will took that question. "I don't think he'd be mad at all, given what he's doing."

Adam trusted Will, and Luke scooted in close to meet Adam's lips. The kiss was tentative and easy, and it left Adam giggling softly. 

Will turned Adam's chin and kissed him next, while Luke crawled in closer and situated his legs beside Will's, to help take Adam's weight. "What else would you like?" Luke's question came as he stroked a warm hand up and down Adam's back.

Adam's breath hitched in his chest when Luke asked him what he wanted. The blush spread further, and Will's lips against his were distractions he couldn't think past.

He crawled from Will's lap to Luke's, and the two cousins shared a look of understanding over Adam's head. Whatever happened was going to be because Adam wanted it.

It was Luke's turn to cuddle Adam while Will rubbed his back and dipped under the waistband of the blue spangled shorts.

Adam's mouth pressed against Luke's again, and Will moved to pull the tight underwear off Adam's hips. Once he was naked, Will started to knead his ass.

Luke picked Adam up just enough to let Will undress him, then settled his naked cousin in his lap. "Want me to guess, Adam?" He whispered the question into Adam's mouth between kisses.

"I wa-want you to pleasefuckme," he begged, running the words together in his hurry and shyness.

Luke continued to nuzzle Adam's ear. "You're going to have to turn around," Luke pointed out. "And what about our poor sweet Will?"

"Wanna watch," Adam mumbled. 

Will's smile grew lazy. "Watch what, Adam?"

Adam moved carefully in Luke's lap, presenting himself to his cousin as he looked at Will. "Um, touch. I want to see you touch yourself." It always seemed to make Nigel crazed to watch Adam stroke himself, and he wanted to see Will. 

Luke's laugh was low and throaty. "Somebody knows what he likes."

Will leaned forward, pulling Adam forward into a real kiss. The change in position gave Luke free access to Adam's opening, and he dragged his nails over his cheeks. 

Adam shivered at the nail drag, but he didn't break the kiss with Will. Will's tongue was stroking deeply, teasing Adam's and urging him to return the kiss.

After a moment, Adam's hands rose to Will's face. He tossed his brother's ugly glasses to the side as his tongue pressed tentatively into Will's mouth.

Through the window in the door, Nigel was watching, flabbergasted. Hannibal had told him that Luke and Will had "a history of mutual pleasuring," which Hannibal approved of, but there had been no mention of Adam involved any-fucking-where.

And yet, there he was, getting his tonsils sucked by Hannibal's little twink while Jean's boy was lubing Adam up.  
Hannibal's hand restrained him. "Let them have their fun."

When Will had to breathe, he broke the kiss. Adam's head fell back as Luke's slick fingers probed gently inside. 

"We have voyeurs," Luke murmured, one arm around Adam's waist.

Will looked over his shoulder to see Hannibal restraining Nigel, and he flashed his love a wicked grin. "Think we can make you scream, beautiful boy?" he asked Adam in a whisper, reaching out to tweak Adam's nipples. 

"Uh-huh, yes," was his desperate reply, rocking in Luke's lap and pushing against his fingers. "Please, please, Luke, I want it!"

"Christ, you're hot when you beg." Luke's cock was already hot and slick, and he lined it up to Adam's stretched hole. He locked eyes with Nigel as he pulled Adam back, filling him quickly.

Nigel was fighting against Hannibal's restraining arm, snarling jealously at the smug pleasure on Luke's face. "I'm going to fucking kill him," he choked out, watching as Adam started to slowly ride Luke's cock.

"I think Jean might have something to say about that," Hannibal reminded calmly. "Don't you think he's gorgeous like this? Arched delicately, riding so slowly. Almost like he's showing off for you, letting you see what it looks like when he's riding this," he finished, giving Nigel's half-hard cock a rough squeeze.

Will waited until Adam was riding Luke's cock, and he reached for his own. He closed his fist around his cock, and it took very little to imagine that it was Hannibal's instead. He squeezed hard, making himself moan as he arched. 

The moan got Adam's attention, and his mouth fell open just a bit. His tongue snaked out to wet his lips, and leaned forward to touch Will's hand as it moved.

Will leaned forward to kiss Adam's cheek almost primly. "Do you have any idea how sinfully gorgeous you are like this? Your mouth is cherry red from kisses and looks like it's starving for cock. And your body is moving like water, rippling and twisting on Luke's cock. But it's your eyes, half-lidded and dark with want, that makes me want to come all over you." He moved his hand away, and Adam stroked him.

Will's whisper made Adam keen softly with pleasure. Nigel's dirty talking was much more swear-heavy, more gravelly with his need for Adam, but the softly whispered words were just as dirty.

Luke's panting filled the silence, and then he growled in Adam's ear. "You have any idea how hard you made me? Sweet little Adam, so quiet and sweet, no wonder he keeps you naked all the time. I'd keep you naked and chained to the bed all the time, and I'd never get out of bed." His cock was pushing hard into Adam's body, and one hand rested on his hip. The other slid over Adam's stomach, his chest, and wrapped lightly around his throat. 

"Stop," Will whispered. "Don't scare him."

Adam wasn't exactly scared, but when Luke's hand touched his throat, he felt squeezed. Luke dropped it instantly, and wrapped both arms tightly around Adam. "I'm sorry, my beautiful boy, please don't be afraid. I wouldn't hurt you." He stroked Adam's cock lovingly. "Jean and I get carried away sometimes, I should have been more careful."

The sweet apology had Adam relaxing again, and he turned to kiss Luke tenderly. "I liked it til I felt like I couldn't breathe," he confessed quietly, and smiled against Luke's lips.

Will caught Hannibal's stare in the doorway window, and smiled his agreement. "Adam, have you ever been inside Nigel?"

Adam's eyes got wide as he shook his head no.

Hannibal was still restraining Nigel, and stroking his cock at the same time. "I think you're going to like this."

Luke's hand slipped down and stroked Adam's cock again, spreading a thick layer of lubrication over the length. "Will, you need help?" he asked. 

"I got it." He slicked up his fingers by stroking Adam's cock, and slid two fingers in at once. The burn of the stretch made his toes curl, and he promised himself to beg Hannibal for a hard fucking later. He made sure that he was slick and ready, and then he looked up at Adam. "You want this, Adam?"

Adam's eyes were huge as he nodded yes. Because maybe if Will let him practice and get good at it, then he could surprise Nigel. 

Luke stopped moving and held Adam still. Will got on all fours and approached Adam, nuzzling his neck before turning to present his opening.

Nigel's fist pounded the wall, nearly punching a hole in the wall. "If Will lets Adam fuck him, I'm going to rip his dick off. That's for me, not him."

"Brother or not, lay a hand on William and it will be the end of you," Hannibal said conversationally. "And if that is how you feel, why have you waited?"

They watched together as Adam leaned forward, pressing the head of his cock into Will's ass. Adam's groan was long and vibrating as he worked himself in, but the cries went up an octave as Luke started moving again. 

Adam's body was caught between two incredible forces, Luke driving so deeply into him that he was keening loudly with every push, and Will's heated body taking every rocking thrust he could give.

Mindless almost, Adam's body moved out of control.

Nigel watched as Adam fucked Will while Luke drove into Adam. "Goddammit, Hannibal, let me go."

"Not until you've seen Adam come, because you need to see exactly how good you've got it," was Hannibal's answer. "Adam's the best thing to happen to you."

"I love him," Nigel admitted hoarsely. "He's my fucking everything, my future."

"Quit spoiling him and tell him so." Hannibal reached up and flattened Nigel's fist, working the fingers until they relaxed. "Let him enjoy this, then take him home and love the memory out of him."

Will was focused on Hannibal while Adam's cock fucked him roughly. Uneven, inexperienced strokes were pushed deep by Luke's thrusting, and he fisted his erection with a quiet groan.  
Luke's hands gripped Adam's hips. "Like this, slow out, hard and fast in." He matched his own thrusting to the movement of Adam's body, biting his lip to hold back the orgasm. "Will's big and strong, you won't hurt him. Hard, pushing in hard and fast is going to make him scream." He demonstrated that, too, and Adam's cock throbbed as he drove it into Will. 

Will gave a surprised cry as Adam stroked deeper, brushing against his prostate. 

"See? Sweet Will's a sucker for a nice hard fuck," Luke grunted. "He likes it when you ride him hard, just like this," and Luke twisted his hips to help fuck Will harder. "He really likes it when you don't let him come."

Adam could've understood that if he'd heard a word of it. But the savage stab of Luke's hips sent pleasure rocketing through him. His nails dug into Will's hips as he echoed the same movement.

Will growled at Luke. "I hate you sometimes," he panted harshly, feeling Luke's hand reaching out and stroking his cock. "Adam, Adam please, do that again, right there!" He turned just enough to shift his position, and the next hard drive of Adam's cock pounded Will hard enough to make his eyes cross. "Fuck, please, yes!"

Adam's eyes were closed, but one hand left Will's hip to tangle in his hair. He remembered Luke doing that in the pool house, and he yanked back. "Don't come, Will, or you'll get in trouble." Another echo of the past.

Nigel's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he heard Adam's threat.

Will actually whimpered at the command, and Luke laughed. "That's what he likes, tell him that if he comes, you're going to tie his hands behind his back and tie his cock up too."

Adam's breath caught, because Will's ass had contracted so tightly around Adam's cock at Luke's words. 

"I'll do it too, Will, you know I will." Luke was fucking Adam desperately hard, and he knew he was ramming Will just as roughly. "Hannibal can't save you now, he likes it when you're punished, doesn't he? Jean said Hannibal once kept you tied up and plugged up in his office while he met patients in the next room."

Adam's face was red, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing. But it was true; Will was nodding along with Luke's words. "Will, do you want me to do that to you? Luke and I will tie you up here and leave you for Hannibal to find in the morning."

Luke kissed Adam roughly. "Let's do it, cheri," he said darkly. "He's been a bad Will, look at his hands on his cock. He wants to be bad, so we have to help him be good."

Adam agreed with a nod, and Luke twisted his hips again, stabbing roughly against Adam's prostate. Overstimulated by the buffeting waves coming from both directions plus the heady threats against Will, that's all he could stand. His orgasm washed over him, and he did what he had seen Luke do before; he pulled out and stroked his cock as he came over Will's back.

The hot splash of Adam's come on his skin was a shock that Will had not expected, and he couldn't hold back his orgasm.

Luke was frozen by the tableau in front of him. Sweet, innocent Adam was jerking his load over Will's skin, and Will was fisting his cock through his own. 

Luke's cock exploded inside Adam before he could take another breath. He nearly blacked out, and there were a few seconds he couldn't account for.

"Clean him up," he heard Adam say, then Luke felt a hot mouth cover his cock and start licking it clean. He looked down at Will's head bobbing in his lap and groaned softly. "Me, too," he heard Adam add.

"Where did you learn this, cheri?" Luke's voice trembled as Will kissed the head of his cock before moving to Adam's. 

"N - Nigel has a video collection." His voice warbled slightly while Will serviced him as well. "I didn't know, but Will seemed to like it."

That was all Nigel could stand, and he slammed the door open. "There you are, steă," he said, calmly as he could. "I'd wondered where you got to." Hugging Adam to him, he shot murderous glares at Luke and Will. 

Which Luke ignored completely, absently petting Will's hair. "Don't worry, we took good care of him for you. Didn't we, Will?"

"Damn right we did," Will answered, but he did not stand. He stayed on his knees beside Luke.

Adam peeked over Nigel's shoulder. "Need me to stay and help?"

Luke nearly said yes, but didn't want to antagonize Nigel further. "I think I can handle it, cheri. Go home with your man."

Now that was something that Nigel could get behind, and he lifted Adam into his arms. "You look tired, darling." He didn't wait for an answer, just elbowed the door open and carried Adam out.

Luke looked down fondly at Will. "What am I going to do with you, Mister Graham?"

"Why don't you leave that to me." Hannibal stood in the doorway, arms crossed sternly over his chest. A length of rope and a black collar dangled from his fingers. "I believe you'll find Jean in the shower."

Luke nodded silently as he left Will kneeling in the middle of the room, and quietly closed the door. 

The End


	5. Incubus William & Count Lekteris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! Count Hannibal Lekteris has been visited by a handsome incubus that has now appeared in flesh and blood in Hannibal's bed.

  
Hannibal was tired, nearly exhausted. The Samhain celebration at their castle had taken a lot out of him.

Especially given that he hadn't been sleeping well.

And not even Mischa had been able to help, because he'd sent her back to her own bed for reasons he couldn't articulate.

But it was close to midnight, and he had left the window open, to hear the sound and smell the scent of the effigy on fire.

"You're not asleep." A chastising voice floated in on the smoke.

"Need I be?"

"That's generally how it works," came the voice, but now it was in the room.

When Hannibal turned from the wardrobe, there was... some*thing* in his bed; the same smoky creature he'd seen in dreams the last week.  "So you're real."

"That depends on who you ask." The creature smiled, and the smoke coalesced into a human form, black curls framing a scruffy face. "Not bad; you're pretty good at visualization."

"Who are you?" Hannibal demanded, "And why are you wearing that face?"

"Because it's mine? It's what I look like when I'm not smoky and incorporeal," explained the creature. "I'm an incubus, which is just like a succubus except, well."  He dragged his hand down his masculine form.

"Then perhaps you've been visiting the wrong place," Hannibal offered archly, leaving his cape over the chair as he put away his boots and sash.

"Or, given how much I've taken from you this week, the very right place." The incubus patted the bed. "Join me, Hannibal."

Hannibal stayed exactly where he was. "Taken?"

The incubus laughed. "We feed on sexual energy, not souls. Legend says we also steal your life away, but, shockingly, legend is wrong." He stretched out on the bed, buck naked and toes curling.

Hannibal was in danger of getting distracted. "Do you have a name, or should I refer to you as creature?"

A quizzical look. "William, on this day. Otherwise, no."

It was Hannibal's turn to be confused. "This day?"

"All Hallow's Eve. Midnight to sunrise, ethereal creatures like myself are given flesh for a few hours. We're the in-betweens, creatures of smoke and dreams." William smiled. "This one night, we're free of our compulsion and can choose our own entertainment." He spread his hands. "I came here."

Hannibal drew close to the bed, but didn’t join the handsome man. "And after tonight?"

"You won't see me again," William admitted. "After this visit, you're officially off-limits to me."

Hm. Hannibal wasn't at all certain he wished to lose his nocturnal visitor. "Why?"

"Incubi are only effective in dreams. You know now I'm not a dream. You can no longer feed me or my kind," he explained.

"So why did you come?" Hannibal sat down in the red velvet armchair by the bed, where he usually sat to read to Mischa before carrying her back to her own bed.

The incubus smiled, though there was a hint of sadness. "I wanted something that wasn't a dream. I wanted you to be safe, even--especially--from me."

"Elaborate," Hannibal demanded, sounding every bit Count Lekteris, and not the Hannibal William was used to.

"Incubi and succubi are meant to visit different men and women; some visit many in a single night. We don't get attached; it's very dangerous to linger in the dreams of a single individual, because we are creatures of dreams. To feed from the dreams of one to the exclusion of others turns my kind into wraiths, who devour the dreams until the dreamer is dead. Your dreams are addictive, Hannibal. I am already finding it hard to leave your dreams before you wake. So by showing myself, I save you and lose you in one swoop. But I have a few hours, and I want to share them with you."

"No," Hannibal said, and savored the taste of the word.

"There is no more no, my lord," William replied to the tone more than the words. "This is the rule of the land."

"And I am the lord of the land, am I not? The rules are mine to make or break as I choose. I do not wish to have your visits cease."

"Not these rules, Hannibal."

"Yes. Even these rules. What happens at daybreak, if I close the window and refuse to let you leave?"

William sat up, and reached out to touch Hannibal's cheek, trace his hard-locked jaw. "Windows are only a politeness my kind observed. They're not necessary. Hannibal, please. Come to bed, before I'm gone forever. I don't want to know everything I had with you wasn't real."

Hannibal turned his face into the touch. "There's nothing I can do?"

William shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hannibal. There's nothing either of us can do. I just wanted you to be safe, and steal a few extra hours besides."

"You could have shown yourself and left."

William's answer was so quiet that if Hannibal hadn't been listening for it, he'd have missed it. "No, I couldn't."

Hannibal leaned forward in the chair, pressing his lips gently against William's. They were full, soft and warm and alive. Smoke and blood, sweat and come and leather all assailed his tongue and nose as William kissed him back.

He pulled William into his lap, not breaking the kiss until he was seeing stars. "Sunrise?"

William nodded. "Sunrise." His fingers rested on the top buttons of Hannibal's shirt, waiting for permission. He wasn't taking anything tonight that Hannibal didn't give.

Hannibal brought his hands up to cover William's, guiding them through the first unbutton. "I think you can handle the rest."

William attacked the buttons with a fury, yanking each wide as soon as it was free. His fingers ran through the hair on Hannibal's chest and shivered. "I didn’t think it would be scruffy!"

Hannibal's laugh was low, and he rested his hand on William's hip. "Whatever were you expecting?"

He was suddenly like an eager child unwrapping a present, wiggling and squirming as he pulled Hannibal's shirt off entirely. "I don't know," he answered honestly, rubbing his face in the warm fur.

The wiggling and squirming was making things a little uncomfortable inside Hannibal's black trousers. While William seemed content for the moment, Hannibal lifted his hips to slide his pants down to get kicked off.

William's eyes widened as Hannibal lifted his weight like it was nothing. "That."  Finding himself speechless, he caught Hannibal's mouth in another kiss. His tongue licked hungrily in Hannibal's mouth, one hand braced on his chest.

Hannibal was enthralled by William's enthusiasm as well as his naivete. A sex demon who seemed shocked by real world mechanics, and there was a sudden squeeze in his chest.

William felt Hannibal stiffen. "No, don't think. Come back here to me, Hannibal. Come back to your William. Tomorrow you can regret." He pressed tiny kisses along Hannibal's neck and jaw.

"I'm here," Hannibal reassured, bringing his hands up to cup William's face. His thumbs rubbed gentle caresses into warm skin as stormy-colored eyes focused on his. "I won't leave you, I promise."

Exhaling softly, William closed his eyes and let himself feel everything. The warmth of Hannibal's hands, the scrape of chest hair against his palm, the taste on his tongue. The boiling heat of his cock pressing against Hannibal's belly, the hardness of Hannibal's cock pressing against his ass.

"Open your eyes," Hannibal whispered. "I want to see all of you."

"Okay." William's eyes snapped open, and the color had changed to an electric blue. "It's just how we know we're ready to feed, I won't hurt you," he whispered.

"I know." He brought his hands up to rest on William's thighs. "I want you to ride me, just like this. If you want something real, let me give it to you in a place we've never been." Because in Hannibal's dreams, they had always been in his bed.

Naked gratitude shone out of William's eyes at Hannibal's suggestion. Maybe something else, but Hannibal tried not to notice.  "I take it you approve," he said, perhaps only half-teasing as his fingers kneaded William's thighs.

"I approve," William replied in a choked voice. "I desperately approve."

Hannibal swung his legs out, scooting the chair closer to the small dresser by the bed. "Top drawer, left corner, if you don't mind."

William twisted at the waist, hands seeking and finding a cool blue jar. Victorious, he presented it to Hannibal proudly. "I want you to know that I've never done this for real. Dreams are one thing, but you're the only person I've stayed with."

"Then I'm especially lucky." In that moment of confession, it truly didn't matter. "But it doesn't matter, because the only moment is now, and now is us."

William braced his hands on Hannibal's shoulders, lifting himself up and putting his knees on the arms of the chair. His thighs stretched, but he relished the burn.

Hannibal swallowed hard; the change in position brought William's cock closer to Hannibal's mouth, and he couldn't deny himself the taste.

Even as his fingers dipped in the blue jar, his tongue swiped over the head of William's cock. He bent his head, angling to take more in.

William gave a hoarse cry when Hannibal licked his erection, and it throbbed. He brought one hand up to steady it, feeding the length into Hannibal's willing mouth.

Hannibal let the jar fall to the floor, fingers slick with cream. He lapped at the cock in his mouth, committing every detail to his memory palace. Smoke again, sex and sweat, a tang of uncertainty. His lips popped off, but a finger pressed slowly into William's exposed opening.

Head falling back, William let one knee slip down outside Hannibal's thigh so he could push against the stretching finger.

Ever obliging, Hannibal slid a second finger alongside the first, then urged William's other leg down as well.

He got a look at the pure ecstasy on William's face as he moved against Hannibal's fingers. William's face was flushed ruddy in the firelight, lips bitten a rosy red as he held in the grunts and groans.

"Don't hide," Hannibal pled softly. "Let me hear you."

William's lips fell open and a thin stream of smoke wafted out, and Hannibal breathed it in. He knew that scent; it haunted his dreams. It was William's essence, and he drank it in.

A string of softly pleading words followed, begging for Hannibal to take him.

Strong hands pressed against thinner shoulders. "Slide down, take me in, I'm yours," Hannibal reassured him, guiding him down.

William's face contorted as he pressed down against Hannibal's hard cock. The head, slick with precome and lubricant, slipped into his opening, and he gasped. "Hannibal!"

Hannibal wrapped his arms around the incubus, shuddering slightly as William slid further down with each rock of his hips. "Just like this," Hannibal encouraged, holding back his own urge to thrust against the tight passage wrapped around him.

William couldn't stop until he'd worked the full length of Hannibal's cock inside. His eyes were wild with hunger as he took in the last inches, and he was still for a moment.

Hannibal couldn't stay still; with his hands back on William's thighs, he pushed himself up, sliding out just a little before he pushed back in.

Nails dug into Hannibal's shoulders as William got in on the action, lifting and lowering himself as Hannibal gave shallow thrusts of his hips.

The antique chair creaked under their combined movement, but it didn't give way. Hannibal's breathing was harsh, and William's voice was raw as he cried out Hannibal's name again and again.

Their bodies surged together, and William pressed his mouth against Hannibal's neck. He bit hard, grunting when Hannibal's cock drove deeper.  Sweat glistened between them, and William refused to move his mouth until the mark he left was a vivid red, promising to be purple and raw.

Hannibal groaned at the teeth in his flesh, and returned the favor, worrying an identical spot on William's neck until he sobbed out.

William was shuddering with need, his cock slipping against Hannibal's stomach and streaking his skin with precome.

Hannibal felt the shivers and dragging William closer, until they were skin-to-skin. He left one arm around William's waist and reached for his cock with the other. "Will you come for me?" Hannibal asked softly, stroking roughly. "Will you let me see you undone?"

"Yes, please!" William felt trapped in the best way, surrounded by Hannibal's arms, body, hands, with no choice but to do what he demanded.

Squeezing with his ass, William ground roughly against Hannibal's cock, rotating his hips until he felt the lightning strike of Hannibal hitting that spot.

Hannibal had to force his eyes to stay open. The bolt of pleasure that had shot through William had locked his muscles, trapping Hannibal's cock inside his body.   
His orgasm came quickly, covering Hannibal's hand, stomach, even chest. Limp, sated and panting, William curled like a kitten in Hannibal's lap.  He rocked against Hannibal in slow, lazy motions until Hannibal grabbed his hips.

William smiled as Hannibal growled, and pounded roughly into him. He'd known this was what Hannibal needed, and squeezed his cock again.

A hard, sharp cry broke out of Hannibal's chest as he drove to the hilt into William, coming with hard spurts in his welcoming body.

Hannibal relaxed into the chair, making no move to rise. His chest heaved as he panted, and he stroked and petted William's slick skin and sweaty hair.

William's ear was pressed against Hannibal's heart, listening to it pound and slowly return to normal. His eyes were closed, but his fingers tangled in Hannibal's chest hair.

"What time is left?" Hannibal asked softly.

"Three hours, maybe a little more. Sunrise is early." Will's voice faltered. "I don't want to go, Hannibal. I want you to know that."

"I know." Standing up, Hannibal lifted William onto the bed, and got in beside him. "Just let me hold you, to know what you feel like in my arms."

Another thin waft of smoke, and Hannibal realized as he breathed it in that it was salty . William was crying, and Hannibal simply gathered the incubus to him. "Don't cry, mano meilė," Hannibal murmured unconsciously.

William's eyes closed, and the smoke stopped drifting. "Go to sleep, Hannibal. It'll be easier that way."

Hannibal shook his head, but even as he was determined to stay awake, he felt lethargy tug at him. He managed to stay awake another hour, but no more.

\---

The morning sun was bright, he was sticky and uncomfortable, and he couldn't breathe. "Mischa, off," Hannibal grunted, pushing at her to roll over.

"Stop it," came the feeble, but definitely not feminine answer, and that snapped Hannibal into full wakefulness.

The window showed the time was still early, but far past daybreak. He threw the blanket off, staring at a shock of soft black hair peeking from under the pillow.  A soft snoring fluttered the corner of the pillowcase, and Hannibal felt like snatching the pillow away.

Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed and pinched himself hard enough to bruise later. The pain made his eyes water, but nothing else changed.

Gingerly, he lifted the pillow, and was rewarded by William's face, puffy and sleep-drunk, peering up at him with one eye open. "Hannibal--"

The light in the room registered, and he shot upright, fully awake and still gloriously naked. The mark from Hannibal's teeth was bright purple against light skin, and William pinched himself. "Ow!"

"I already tried that," Hannibal said dryly.

"What--what's--" William yanked the sheet up to cover his body.

The modesty was amusing, but not the biggest question. "What is indeed the question of the morning," Hannibal agreed, though he wasn't in the least unhappy. Mystified, but not unhappy.

"I remember, you fell asleep about an hour before sunrise, and I was listening to your heartbeat. Then, the sun. I don't remember after that. Why am I still here?"

"Because I didn't want you to leave," Hannibal said confidently.

"Hannibal, Count Lekteris, my lovely liege, not even you can change the laws of the supernatural world," William replied with a grin, then it faded as he looked thoughtful.

"Tell me what you are thinking," Hannibal demanded, seeing the expression.

"There were stories--I thought they were stories--of a banshee who--" William stopped abruptly, flushing red. "Who became attached to the last member of the family she had cursed. He became the only one she couldn't kill, and eventually she bore him children. It's how the psychic element got introduced into the human bloodstream."

"But you are not a banshee," Hannibal pointed out logically.

"I'm not human--well, maybe now, but--you know what I mean!" William's face was still flushed, and he couldn't meet Hannibal's eyes.

"But." For once, Hannibal was hesitant. "But you are attached to me? And I to you?"

"Well, yes. I thought that was obvious." If he got any redder, he could serve as a cookstove.

"Then I was right. I refused to let you leave me, and you refused to leave me. United, the laws could do nothing but bend to our wishes." Hannibal's chest puffed a bit with pride.

William opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it closed again. In the end, maybe Hannibal was right. Who could fight the two of them united as a single willpower? "I'll probably never remember what actually happened," he warned.

Before Hannibal could reassure him it didn't matter, Mischa exploded into Hannibal's bedroom and hugged him. "Happy All Souls!" Then she bounced onto Hannibal's bed, almost clipping William with her elbow. "Hey! Who're you?"

"Good morning, my sister. That is William, soon to be consort of the castle. William, this is my darling sister, Mischa, Lady Lekteris."

"How do you do, my lady?" Of course he knew Mischa from Hannibal's dreams, but he played ignorant.

Mischa took in her brother's nudity, William wrapped in the sheet, and pouted. "Does this mean I can't get in your bed after my nightmares any more?"

William's now-grey eyes glowed in the shadows. "Don't worry, my lady, I'll protect your dreams, just like I will your brother's," he promised her.

Mischa gave William a hug, and bounced away to do the same for Hannibal. "I have the soul cakes for mother and father," she said seriously. "Will you be there?"

"Of course. When the bells ring. Now, go have your breakfast." Hannibal pointed to the door, and waited for her to disappear. "My sister, the human cyclone," he said fondly, then closed the door.

William's face echoed every bit of confusion he felt. "Uh, consort? Can we go back to that again, because I think I missed something."

Hannibal shrugged as he pulled the velvet cord that summoned a bath. "I can't name you Queen because I'm not king--"

"--also, not a woman," William inserted.

"--and Mischa already occupies the matrilineal title of Lady Lekteris," Hannibal continued. "Therefore, you shall be Sir William Lekteris, consort of the count, which is myself," he finished with a bow.

"And you just figured this out?"

"Mmm. Yes. I've obviously given it some thought, as I've been told I should marry. But the details, only now that I have a reason to, did I figure them out."

William's face softened. "You could have just said I love you, you know."

"Huh. I thought that's what I was saying."

End


	6. daddy dearest (daddy!kink)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He's not looking for anything, really. No connection, no love, no return of investment on his time. He's just looking for someone to call him Daddy." Hannibal's head rises when Will says that about the Ripper's crime scene; he knows that's certainly code for something, just, he needs a few minutes to work out what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: daddy kink  
> tw: knife play  
> tw: spanking

"He's not looking for anything, really. No connection, no love, no return of investment on his time. He's just looking for someone to call him Daddy."

Hannibal's head rises when Will says that about the Ripper's crime scene; he knows that's certainly code for something, just, he needs a few minutes to work out what. 

Even Jack is looking at Will strangely, expecting him to elaborate, and then Will does and it's all too clear. 

"A protege, Jack. Someone who can look up to him, follow him, be his loyal little lapdog. It's gone beyond courtship, now. It's a seduction. And the seductee had better be ready to play along."

\---

Hannibal was pouring the wine for his and Will's dinner when he asked the question. "Well, Will? Are you ready to play along?"

"With what?" he asked, almost innocently, as he unfurled his napkin and lay it delicately in his lap. 

"You yourself said that whomever staged that crime scene was looking for a protégé. Someone who can look up to him, follow him. I believe you even mentioned lapdog in there somewhere." Hannibal finished pouring, then placed the wine back in the bucket in the centerpiece. "And you suggested the seductee should be ready to play along."

"That was for Jack's benefit, Hannibal. You know that." He didn't reach for the wineglass, but he did turn his head to watch Hannibal disappear into the kitchen. "We don't play games between us." 

"Then am I to assume you do not want to call me Daddy?" Hannibal placed the platter on the table and revealed the rack of lamb with a flourish. "Perhaps I misread things."

"I think perhaps you have." Will sat back and allowed Hannibal to plate his dinner, as always, and place it back in front of him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. If that was simply a performance for Jack, congratulations. I don't believe I've ever seen you perform better." 

Will looked at Hannibal over the rim of the wine glass. "You've never actually seen me perform, Hannibal." 

"Intriguing." 

"Maybe someday." Will dug into the meal laid out in front of him with gusto, enjoying every bite that passed his lips. Hannibal was watching him carefully; Will could see it out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not going to jump up and start dancing." 

"I did not think you would." Hannibal was sniffing his wine, inhaling the pleasant bouquet before taking a sip. "However, I am very intrigued by your reading of the site this morning. Especially seeing as how you helped to create it, I am wondering what elements you saw in the tableau that made you choose those specific words."

Aha. Now the crafty doctor was showing his hand, just a bit. He wanted to worm that much out of Will's head, figure out what was going on, and it was just as delicious as the meal. It was so rare for Will to have the upper hand. "I told you; I was pulling it out of my ass for Jack. Besides." A bite of rare lamb, and it was juicy and savory. "Isn't it true? Aren't you trying to seduce me, Hannibal?"

"Yes. And you are the quite willing participant in my seductions, up to a certain point." Hannibal echoed Will's motions, carefully cutting and then chewing the lamb. "One might think, even, that you are as actively trying to seduce me as I am you." 

"That person would not be wrong in their observations," Will agreed amiably. "I've never hidden my motives from you."

"No. Even when you tried to kill me, you made certain I knew it was you who had signed the warrant for my death." Hannibal had to admit that much to Will, and he disliked ceding any ground at all. 

"Yes. Because I am honest with you, Hannibal. And if I wanted to call you Daddy…" Will let the knife and fork slip from his fingers and onto the plate. "You'd know it. I'd push my chair back from the table," he said, doing just that. "Come over to your chair, stand right beside you," he continued, matching word to action. "Bend over, just so close that my lips brushed over your ear." He bent at the waist, whispering his next words into Hannibal's ear. "And I would say, please, Daddy, fuck your little boy." 

Hannibal pushed his chair back from the table and stood facing Will, forcing the smaller man to look up and raise his chin in the process. "Do not toy with me, William," he warned.

"I'm not toying, Hannibal." A little shrug that turned up the corners of Will's mouth. "I'm just letting you know what I would do." 

"Then allow me the courtesy of telling you what I would do. Should I feel that whisper in my ear, I would quite calmly tell you to sit down and finish your dinner, like a good little boy should, and perhaps if you behaved, Daddy would reward you." 

Will licked his lips. "And should that be the case, if I refused?" He made sure the words were softly spoken enough that Hannibal had to strain to hear them. 

"Daddy would be very, very upset with you, dear boy. You might even have to be punished."

"No," Will whispered softly. "I won't sit down and finish my dinner." 

"William. Sit down. And finish your dinner." Hannibal's voice had a distinct warning tone to it. "My patience for this nonsense is reaching its peak." 

"I don't care." Walking the line and he knew it, Will desperately wanted what was on the other side of it. "I refuse. Flatly." There was one more line to cross, and he was waiting for the right moment. 

Hannibal said nothing else for the moment, merely lifting Will off his feet. It took some doing, as he was not a lightweight, but he managed a secure enough grip on Will's flailing body that he was able to heave him into a fireman's carry and head for the staircase. 

"Put me down, Hannibal!" Will was squirming and fighting to get free--he hadn't expected to be picked up and carried like a child. 

A loud, hard, and thoroughly unexpected smack across his ass was Hannibal's only reply as he slowly mounted the stairs towards the second floor. 

Carrying dead weights for years up and down the basement stairs had made this, if not easy, second nature as Hannibal ascended. Of course, most dead weights didn't struggle, but a second, and then a third slap to Will's squirming ass managed the situation quite nicely. 

He nudged open the bedroom door with his knee, and deposited Will on the bed. 

As soon as Will's ass hit the bed, he was off it and headed for the bedroom door. Hannibal merely stepped into his path and caught him, closing the door and locking it one-handedly as he steered Will back to the bed. "You started this, Will, but I am going to finish it." 

"Please," Will answered, but he wasn't sure what he was pleading for. Please don't, please do, please stop, please don't stop. 

Hannibal didn't bother asking which. From the dresser by the bed, Hannibal withdrew a knife, and turned back to Will. "Disrobe, or I shall do it for you." 

Will moved closer to the knife, until it barely pricked the skin under his chin, and a single drop of blood rolled down the blade. Hannibal's hand was completely steady, not even the smallest twitch as Will teased himself with the sharp point, then pulled his head back entirely as he started to shrug off his jacket and drop it on the floor. 

"Hang it up properly, back of the chair." Hannibal lifted the blade to his tongue and licked at the single ruby still glistening there, letting it slide onto his tongue and then down his throat. "Fold what you take off, and place it on the chair as well." 

"Yes, sir." Will bit his lip as he started unbuttoning the shirt, watching Hannibal lick his blood from the knife. He could feel another droplet welling under his throat, and he wiped it off with his thumb and rubbed the blood along his lips, coloring them red. He hung the jacket on the back of the chair, and then folded his shirt as he took it off. He rolled up his socks, tucked them inside his shoes, and pushed his shoes under the chair--without having to be told. 

"Good boy, Will." He gave the compliment offhandedly, focusing on Will's reddened mouth. 

The compliment filled him with warmth, and perversely, made him want to disobey. He didn't want Hannibal's compliments--not yet. He *needed* a chance to earn them, and he straightened his back as he came back to the bed.

Hannibal looked him up and down. "You have not finished your task, William."

"I'm not taking anything else off for you, Hannibal." 

The knife was perilously close, shining in the lamplight. It almost danced a Cossack's kick as Hannibal flicked the blade closed and then open again. "I warned you." The knife cut through the waistband of Will's trousers, cleaving the leather as well, and then Hannibal ripped. Down the left side seam they ripped entirely, falling to the floor in a heap, and the knife was back to do the same to the blue boxers. Brand new, not old and faded, it was the work of only a few seconds before they joined the ruined slacks on the floor of Hannibal's bedroom. 

Will's cock was hard and twitching, already leaking a damp patch on the front of his boxers. Hannibal ran the flat of the blade along Will's erection, and then up over his stomach. A faint red line appeared where the knife dragged, the barest of scrapes from the knife's tip. Will shivered. 

The knife disappeared into Hannibal's waistcoat pocket after that, and he left Will standing in the middle of the floor as he took off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up to the elbow. Then he sat himself in the sturdy chair, the mate to the one covered in Will's discarded clothing. "My lap. Now." 

Will dragged his feet, but as soon as he was in Hannibal's radius, the other man grabbed Will by the wrist, hauled him in close, and draped him over his lap. Hannibal's hands smoothed over Will's back and ass, patting the firm globes gently before stilling his touch. "You have not been very cooperative at all, my little boy. What do you think should happen?"

Will couldn't speak, couldn't force his tongue to form actual words asking for what he knew Hannibal could give him. "Please, Daddy, help me be good," is all he could get out. 

"As you know, I have trouble with the concept of good and evil myself. I do not believe a thing is evil, only perhaps ugly, or less beautiful to our perceptions," he lectured gently. "But I think an exception can be made for you, William." He brought his hand down hard on Will's exposed backside, leaving a red hand print behind. "I would like you to count, for me, if you could. And if you miss one, we will regrettably have to start over. Do you understand?" 

Will's head trembled as he nodded yes. 

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. Could you speak up a bit please?" 

"Yes, Daddy, I understand." Will's eyes drifted closed at that, and his teeth released his lower lip, unaware he'd been biting it. The taste of his own blood was metallic in his mouth. 

Hannibal had no intention of injuring Will in any way. He did, however, intend to cause him pain, the pain he was obviously seeking. There was no real way to judge where the line was, except to find it and push him past it, so they could then observe it together. He rubbed the previous red mark with the palm of his hand, and then brought it down to leave a second mark. 

Will's eyes opened at the spank. "O-one." Another hard slap. "Two!" A third. "Three!" Ten slaps in all, each one leaving a red handprint on Will's ass. Each slap, though, had Will's hips moving, rubbing his hard cock against Hannibal's thigh. 

When Hannibal was done, his hand ached, and he imagined that Will's ass was in no better shape. 

Will was weeping by the time the end came. He'd managed to count all ten aloud, and when he'd finished, Hannibal had set him up straight and drawn him in, cuddling Will's naked body against his fully clothed one. He tucked Will's head under his chin, arms around him, his aching ass tucked against the scratchy wool of Hannibal's suit pants. The open affection felt divine after the punishment, and for the first time, Will realized that Hannibal's actions, from their first meeting to this very second, were all degrees of love, no matter how desperate. 

Hannibal rocked Will in his lap, soothing him exactly as he would've if Mischa had come to him in tears. He rubbed Will's back gently, kissing his hair softly and murmuring soft nothings to him in Lithuanian until the wracking shudders stopped and he was pulling himself back together. 

"Let Daddy make you feel better," Hannibal murmured into Will's ear, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and wiping the tears with his fingers. "Let Daddy make it up to you, Will." 

Yes, this was the soothing that he was after, the relief of stress, freeing the pent-up beast in his heart. Will let his legs fall apart, and Hannibal did nothing more than slip his hands between them. Will's cock was angry red from where it had chafed against Hannibal's clothes, and was weeping copiously. He used his fist to spread the precome over Will's shaft, soothing the scratching from his clothes as he stroked. "Yes, that's my good boy," Hannibal whispered, slowly jerking Will off to bring him to the best peak he could. "Feel my hand, Will. Close your eyes and feel my hand, stroking your cock and making you feel so much better." 

Will whimpered softly as Hannibal's hand wrapped around his cock. He jerked at first, his tender shaft aching with the hardness and the chafing, but Hannibal's gentle touch soon soothed him. "Daddy, please, let me come for you," he whispered, kissing a line of desperate little kisses up Hannibal's neck and chin. 

"Ssh, of course you may," Hannibal reassured him quietly. He sped up the stroking of his fist, his hand gently holding Will's head to his shoulder. "You don't have to ask." Hannibal's lips pressed kisses to Will's temple, cheeks, even the tip of his nose. "You know I want to see you come, see how you spurt all over my hand, me, yourself. You have so much come for me, Will, such a heavy load all the time. How much you must deny yourself to save everything for me." 

Will arched up into Hannibal's fist, doing exactly the very things that Hannibal's words were describing. He was coming hard, with spurts of come landing on his own belly, all over Hannibal's stroking hand, even the leg of his pants as he rocked against Hannibal's thigh. His eyes were squeezed closed, and Hannibal's mouth had taken his in a deep, crushing kiss that delved into Will's mouth and sucked every taste of blood and sweat out. His tongue probed deep into Will's mouth, and finally, Will's hands rose to Hannibal's hair, locking in and keeping their mouths together. 

A harsh groan from Hannibal's lips vibrated through the kiss, and Will broke the kiss to pant softly into Hannibal's mouth. "Fuck me, Daddy, you know you want to." Because he could feel Hannibal's erection grinding against his ass sitting in his lap, and it was obscenely hard and stretching the inseam of his trousers. 

Hannibal's forehead rested against Will's, and he unzipped himself and brought his cock out to stroke it. "Not tonight, my bad little William. I told you Daddy would have to punish you." He licked his lips, then licked over Will's, staying leaned over him as he stroked his cock roughly, pinching the head to make himself groan. 

Will's eyes widened as he realized what the real punishment was going to be, and he started keening softly, trying work himself onto Hannibal's cock. 

"No, Will, stop." Hannibal's hand kept stroking himself, and he took another kiss from Will's mouth to put himself over the edge. 

Will gave a sad cry of dismay when Hannibal's cock spilled between them, and Hannibal slumped back in the chair. He was panting harshly, but gratefully accepting the kisses that Will was peppering on his face. "I'm sorry, William, but I did warn you."

"Bad Daddy." A pout fell briefly across Will's face. 

"Bad William," Hannibal countered, and nudged Will off his lap. "Go, shower, and perhaps I'll rethink your punishment."

Will slid off when Hannibal nudged with his knee, but instead he held his hands out for Hannibal. Hannibal took them, and Will pulled him to his feet. "Thank you," he said quietly, his arms curling around Hannibal's neck for the first proper kiss of the evening. "Come with me. We both need to shower." 

Hannibal let himself be pulled towards the bathroom, wondering briefly if there were anything he'd say no to where Will was concerned. 

The rush of hot water on the tile shower made him realize no. That so long as Will was the reward at the end of the play, there was nothing he wouldn't do.

End


	7. semi-public Hannigram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt was public/semi-public sex. tw: orgasm denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: orgasm denial  
> tw: toy/plug play

Hannibal had promised it to him, had teased him with it, and then, after breakfast this morning, Hannibal had brought Will back up to the bedroom, and spread him out carefully on the bed. "No one will know about this, Will, just you and I," Hannibal had told him, even as he carefully and liberally greased the tip of the metal plug before sliding it home in Will's ass. The flat bottom sat snugly against his hole, and the little red gem that decorated him made him feel like a piece of art that should've been on display in Hannibal's home. 

And then Hannibal had added one more thing, just to make Will that extra bit confined. "I promised you, too, that you would be hungry, starving for me when I see you tonight at my office, and this will ensure that." He'd pressed a kiss along Will's neck, down his throat, and back up to his ear as his fingers snapped the leather cock ring in place. 

Will had whined softly.

But, to be honest, neither of them had actually expected a crime scene. Hannibal had expected Will's day to be filled with lecturing, standing in front of his students and yet hiding behind the overhead projector to conceal the erection slowly growing from his being plugged and filled. 

At lunchtime, he'd expected to bring Will a home-made lunch to share, then to lock the classroom, bend him over the desk, and relieve the suffering, at least until the eveing. Take a bit of the edge off. 

He was thrilled to find Will at the crime scene, cold and huddled up into himself, knit cap pulled down over his eyes as he refused eye contact with anyone. 

"Dr. Lecter, thank you for coming." Jack moved to shake Lecter's hand as the doctor approached the crime scene.

"Thank you for calling me, Jack." Hannibal shook Jack's hand, then rested it on Will's shoulder with a gentle squeeze. "What did you find today?"

"Two more bodies, this time, not the Ripper," Will said hurriedly, breathing cold air through his nose. He could easily have disemboweled someone himself with the edginess that was consuming him as his muscles squeezed around the plug still in his ass. "Someone frustrated, though. Pent up, not quite angry. There's no real anger in the bodies," he said pointedly, *really* hoping Hannibal picked up the bread crumbs. 

Oh, he'd picked it up as soon as Will had opened his mouth. The tension in his body, the upper torso stiffness, the way he was carrying himself so carefully, they were all dead giveaways that Will had put their promises above the game with the FBI. "Perhaps teased, beyond endurance?" Hannibal suggested, because bullying was almost expected at this point. 

Will could've cheerfully murdered the smug bastard, especially because he wasn't hauling around what felt like a metric ton of solid stainless steel in his ass. "Possibly, actually pretty likely. But we'd have to consult their families first, check their social media, see if anyone in their dorms picked up on anything strange." Hint, hint, motherfucker.

Hannibal blithely ignored it. "Were they posed in this way?"

Will gritted his teeth. "The bodies weren't posed, as such, they were just leaned together and they fell where they fell. He didn't care about them once they were dead. It was the process that elated him. The death itself, how he killed them, the… the privacy of the thing. Feeling them struggle under his hands, then lessen as the end approaches, that's what he's looking for." 

"He?" questioned Hannibal with a raised eyebrow.

Jack's eyebrows were also aloft, picking up on an unspoken tension between doctor and patient. A falling out? Had Hannibal discovered something in Will's mind that Will didn't want to share? And was that going to affect Will's usefulness in the field? 

"He," Will said, most assuredly. "There's no room for another woman, here. There's intimacy, one on one. Despite the fact there's two of them, he's dealt with them individually. Killed one, then killed the other." Like he was about to do with Jack and Hannibal. Jesus Christ, were they always such idiots, or were they just pretending on his account?

"What else can you tell me, Will? About the man?" Jack probed, needing everything he could get. 

"Uh, he'll be about their age, no more than five or seven years older or younger. Anything else would've been conspicuous," he said, trying to force thoughts past the blockade erected by want and desire. "He'll look like he belongs on the campus, but he actually won't. Bartenders, especially, look like they're campus but they're actually townies. Waiters, parking attendants, any job that picks up young college-age kids is where you'll find this guy."

"So we'd be wasting our time checking enrollment records," Jack said.

"Yeah, I think so. Do it anyway, but I'm not wrong. He might've taken classes before, but he's not a current student."

Jack was writing this down in his notebook. "And the library?"

"Convenient," Hannibal interrupted. He'd been looking around the campus, and it would have been the first place he'd chosen to murder someone. "It's isolated. It's off the main traffic areas, back from the square, and the trees offer a measure of protection, especially in the dark." 

Will nodded. "The lights don't start until you get to the quad, so there's no real chance of being seen, or if they were seen, it probably looked like a couple of kids making out in the shadows," he added, picking up seamlessly on Hannibal's explanation. His nails were digging small crescents in his palms. 

Hannibal had let his hand drop from Will's shoulder, but he brought it up now as a gesture of comfort, at least to Jack, and he squeezed the back of Will's neck. 

A tiny tremor shivered through Will's body, and if he could've reached, he'd have snapped his head around and bitten Hannibal's fingers off at the wrist. Well, no, because actually he had plans for those fingers. But the thought was enough to distract from the sudden contraction of his entire body around the plug in his ass. 

"I'm sorry, Will," Jack said softly, and nodded to Hannibal. 

"He'll be all right. We'll talk about this tonight, won't we, Will?" 

"You better believe it." There was murder behind those words.

"Go home, Will. You look tired," Jack murmured. "Get some sleep." 

No. No, actually he looked horny. Desperate, even. He looked frustrated. And he looked ready to commit murder on the tall motherfucker smirking behind him. He didn't even have to look to see that Hannibal was smirking. "Thanks, Jack, but I'm going to take a walk around the scene, look around the campus and see if there's anything else I can find that'll help us out." 

"Would you like some company, Will?" Most innocent question in the world. 

He looked at Hannibal like he couldn't believe he'd just asked that question. "Sure, if you want." Translation: Of course, you teasing bastard, I'm actually looking for a place to ride you like a mustang.

Hannibal turned towards Jack, and gave him a nod of the head. "Jack." 

"Hannibal." He nodded back, and watched as the doctor trailed Will by about a half a step. He really hoped that Hannibal was doing some good for Will, because it seemed to him that Will was doing some good for the doctor. 

Will set off at a determined pace, though with an ambling track, heading towards the back of the library while weaving through the trees around it. He was keeping an eye out for two things simultaneously; evidence, or something that could lead to evidence, and a nice, secluded spot. He was listening, too, to the tap of Hannibal's fancy fucking Italian shoes on the sidewalk behind him. "You can walk beside me, I'm not actually going to kill you." 

"Given the murder you were glaring at me earlier, I was not certain I was safe in your radius." But he sped up his steps enough to bring him shoulder-to-shoulder with Will. "How are you feeling, Will?" 

Will's chuffed breath was an answer in and of itself, and he glared at Hannibal. "How do you think I'm feeling, Hannibal? I've been hauling my cock around with a wheelbarrow all day because it's so hard, every time you touch me I clench up around the steel in my ass, and oh, did I mention the forty-five minute drive it took to get here?"

Hannibal did have the grace to look concerned. "Yes, that last five miles was exceptionally rough." 

"Yeeeeeeeeah," Will drawled. "It really was." 

Hannibal brought his hand to the small of Will's back, rubbing gently with his fingertips. "I did not mean for you to suffer quite all day like this," he murmured softly as he massaged. Will's eyes fluttered halfway closed, and he moaned softly at the pleasure of being massaged right where it ached. "I had intended to come to you at lunch, with a specially-prepared meal of lamb and vegetables with jelly and croissants, and then to bend you over your desk and fuck you until you begged for me to let you come." 

Will let another soft groan out, this time at the filthy words coming out of Hannibal's cultured mouth, in that accent. That was something that never failed to make him shiver, and he pushed down hard on the plug, though it didn't shift. "Would you have let me?"

"No," Hannibal admitted, still rubbing. "But you would have begged me so prettily. Fucked out, strung tight and shivering, on edge and begging me for your release." He licked his lips, taking a deep breath of Will's arousal. "You smell so delicious, I could devour you." 

"Here's far enough," Will said, not actually caring if it were or not. That it was quiet, with no passerby, that was enough for Will's desperation, and he shoved Hannibal against the library's outside wall. There were no windows, but even if there had been, he didn't care. His mouth sealed against Hannibal's, kissing him roughly and rubbing his hard cock against Hannibal's thigh. 

Hannibal's hands gripped Will's ass, lifting him just a little as he massaged through Will's slacks. The tiny lift brought Will's cock in line with his own, and they both groaned at the contact. Will's mouth was never still, kissing and licking, sucking and nibbling, hands roaming over Hannibal's shirt and waistcoat, trying to push and shove enough fabric aside to touch flesh. "Too many goddamn layers, Hannibal, would it kill you to dress like a normal human?" he demanded, frustrated. 

Will was exceptionally easy to undress, and Hannibal did appreciate that. A tug of a belt, a shove of fabric, the metallic grating of a zipper, and Will's pants were around his ankles. His fingers kneaded Will's ass sharply, pressing them together around the plug then working them apart. Over and over again he teased, until Will's teeth bit down on his ear. "Sssh, easy," Hannibal whispered, rubbing the small of Will's back again to soothe him. "Slowly, love. Slowly." 

He had no intention of relaxing, but Hannibal's voice and fingers were a mesmerizing combination, and Will found himself slowing down and his body got lax. As a reward, Hannibal's fingers slid between Will's cheeks and grasped the plug firmly by the base. "No!" Will cried out involuntarily, feeling the plug ease out of him. 

"It's okay," Hannibal promised, shifting Will around to brace against the wall. "I know, my William, it feels like a part of you now, but do you trust me?" Will's head nodded jerkily. "Then let me have it." 

Will forced himself to relax all the way, and the plug came all the way out. Hannibal dropped it into Will's boxers, and then reached into the pocket of his overcoat and came back with a condom. He tore into it quickly and rolled it down his shaft inside out, so the lubrication was transferred from the rubber to his cock. Then he tossed it to the side and eased himself into Will's stretched opening. 

The sob of relief when Hannibal entered him, Will had to muffle against his arm. His teeth bit into his arm as he got exactly what he wanted; Hannibal's cock buried to the hilt in his ass. He shuddered hard, feeling the familiar push-pull of flesh instead of metal, and he bit his lip to keep the noises in. 

Hannibal's fingers stroked through Will's hair, gripping tightly and pulling his head back. "Let me hear you, Will. Let me hear how much you want me." 

"Hannibal, please," he begged softly, his fingers curling into the unforgiving stone of the building. "Fuck me, hard, not this slow and sweet thing, I need it hard, hard as you can give it to me." He squirmed backwards against Hannibal, trying to take him in further, make him stroke harder, thrust faster. 

Hannibal kept Will's head arched back, his teeth scraping down the straining flesh as he tongued the skin below the collar line. "You will have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow," Hannibal ordered, his teeth closing on Will's skin. 

Will sobbed at the bite, and he reached one hand back to hold Hannibal's mouth against his skin. "Yes." It was almost a cry of its own, Will's nails scratching at Hannibal's scalp in encouragement. "I need you." 

Hannibal's lips pressed in a gentle kiss on Will's bitten skin. "You have me, William." He had been giving lazy rolls of his hips, teasingly slow thrusts that didn't begin to feed the urgency built in Will's body. But at the softly spoken admission, he rocked his hips faster, giving the hard thrusts that he wanted. The slap of body against body was muffled by Hannibal's clothes, but the scratchy prickle rubbed over Will's ass and balls, making him whimper and contract around Hannibal's cock. 

The contractions made Hannibal snarl softly, the cling on his cock making it hard for him to pull out, and every thrust was welcomed back in. 

Will's cock was aching, and he wrapped a hand around the hard length. Angry and red, almost tender to the touch, the cock ring snapped around him made him unable to come. He stroked anyway, until Hannibal caught him. "No, Will. No." Hannibal untied his tie with one hand, yanking out of his collar and wrapping it around Will's wrists. He tied a Windsor knot and tightened it, keeping Will's hands behind his back and away from his cock. 

Then he grabbed the tie and used it to haul Will back into his strokes. Will was sweating in the cold air, begging Hannibal for his orgasm with wordless, panting cries. "No, Will, this evening. In my office, splayed across my desk where I can attend to you properly," he promised hoarsely, keeping Will's hands behind his back. "When I can take your clothes off, stroke your skin everywhere, taste your precome on my tongue. I will take your cock in my mouth, unsnap your cock ring, and swallow down everything that you've been keeping for me today. Then I will fuck you until we're both drained, and then I shall take you home, put you in my bed, and fuck you again, until you are nothing but loose limbs and a heartbeat, thinking of nothing but me."

Will whined, shaking his head as his body quivered. He didn't want to wait, but he loved the picture Hannibal painted for him with his words. "Yes, okay, yes, Hannibal, yes." His wrists strained at the silk tie holding him bound, but he couldn't free himself. "Yes, this evening, I promise I'll wait for you." 

Hannibal's free hand stroked through Will's hair, down over his stomach, back around his hip. "I'm going to plug you again." 

Another whine, and he tightened around Hannibal's cock as he realized how icy cold it was going to be when Hannibal slid it back in. "No, no, leave it out, so hungry for you." He was shivering, hard, bucking hard against Hannibal's pounding cock, trying to take it all and hold Hannibal deep inside. 

Hannibal smoothed his hand over Will's ass, his thumb caressing the split between his cheeks. "Trust me, Will, I would not do anything to hurt you." 

Will still shook his head no, but Hannibal was too close. His nails dragged over Will's naked ass, raising little red scratches in his wake. A hard shudder, and he was coming hard. His back arched, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach, still and shivering as he poured heat into Will's cool body. 

Hannibal let Will straighten after a moment, untying his wrists and letting his arms fall naturally. Will sighed, and leaned back against Hannibal, seeking the gratification of an embrace. Hannibal gave it gladly, his arms wrapping around Will and pulling him close. His mouth nuzzled a different kind of kiss to Will's neck and ear, sucking lightly on the earlobe. "You are my dearest William, do you know that?" 

"Yes, I do." 

Hannibal's skilled fingers slipped down Will's stomach and unsnapped the cock ring. 

Will sobbed loudly, a shout that he couldn't stop as Hannibal's fingers wrapped around the length and stroked. "I can't--"

"Don't. I don't want you to." He pressed his lips to Will's neck again. "I told you I wouldn't leave you to hurt." His fist slid up and down the length, thumb caressing the head. "Don't try and hold it back." 

He couldn't have if he'd wanted to. The stroking fingers, the hot kisses on his neck, the whispered words made him shake like a leaf as he came. It felt like forever; his cock ached even as he came, his orgasm denied for so long breaking free. 

Hannibal was entranced as Will came, and he moved his hand to catch everything he could. There were still messy spills, but nothing that he and Will couldn't tidy up in a restroom. "There, that's for you, my William." When he was certain that Will was spent, Hannibal brought his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers clean, savoring every lick. 

Will's mouth joined Hannibal's on his fingers, licking and sucking and meeting Hannibal's lips in a messy kiss with his fingers caught between them. "I love you, I love you Hannibal, I love you." Whispered between messy kisses, whispered between tongues snaking around beautiful long fingers. 

Hannibal's eyes closed at the desperate, quiet whispers. "I know, William," he reassured softly. "As you know the same." 

Will bent to retrieve his clothes, and handed the jewel-tipped plug to Hannibal. Without a word, he turned and presented himself to Hannibal, holding his cheeks apart and exposing his opening. 

Gently, almost reverently, Hannibal eased the plug back into Will's body, patting it once it was flush. His hands turned Will around and helped pull his clothes back together, and Hannibal put the cock ring in his pocket. Will's fingers dipped in and pulled it back out, and though he'd pulled his clothes up, his cock was still hanging out. 

Catching Hannibal's eyes, he quickly bound himself back up and snapped it with finality. "Tonight. You promised me tonight." 

Hannibal leaned forward, catching Will's lips in a grateful kiss, hands holding his lover's face. "I did. And I will." 

"Then I'll see you this evening, Dr. Lecter. 7:30." Will tucked himself away and licked a stray drip of his come off Hannibal's chin. 

"And what will you tell Jack?" 

"That we found a spot behind the library that I wanted to check out, and we didn't find anything." He shrugged. "I didn't actually expect we would, I was mostly looking for a place to ride your cock." 

Hannibal's finger traced Will's lips. "Tease. I will see you in a few hours, William." 

"Yes. You will."

The End


	8. molly pegging will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly pegs her husband. That's pretty much it.

Molly caught her breath as she came into the bedroom. Everything was the same; the same bed stand, same four-poster frame, same quilt over the blanket and sheets.

Same husband, except he was lying on his stomach, fists clenched as he fought whatever dream he was having. 

Same Molly, except for the leather harness around her hips and the fake pink cock jutting from between her thighs. "Will?" she called softly to wake him up.

Will had been dreaming about Hannibal Lecter. He was naked and sweating under Hannibal's body, which was laid over his back as Hannibal rode him. His fists were clenched hard as he tried not to reach around to feel Hannibal thrusting over him, or touch his hungry cock. 

Molly's voice called him out of the dream, and he half-rolled onto his side.

His eyes widened.

"Hey. I didn't want to wake you, but the kid's gone to Kyle's for the night, and I thought I might take the chance to fuck my husband," she finished with an uncertain smile.

She and Will had talked about this, how he wanted this, but was understanding if she didn't. Molly had been open to trying it; it had always been a dirty secret that she'd wanted to try it, at least once.

So they had looked at the options available, chosen what they needed, and agreed that Molly would be in charge of when. 

Apparently, she'd managed to surprise him. Hopefully the other surprise would be equally as welcome.   
"You're really… beautiful." Will was trying desperately to look at Molly, but he was unable to focus on anything except her cock.

"Mmm. Get over here, Graham, and tell me." She crooked her finger at him as she crawled onto the bed. 

Will crawled towards her and they met in the middle of the bed. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he nuzzled kisses down her neck and onto each breast.

She caught his chin with her index finger, and made him look up at her. "That's not going to cut it," she whispered quietly. "You know what to do."

"Molly…" he let the words trail off as her finger pressed against his mouth and pushed him down.   
Once his head was low enough, Molly brought her hand down to stroke the silicone cock, pressing the head against her husband's lips.

Will's mouth opened, and his tongue licked over the veins along the shaft before taking the head into his mouth.

Molly shuddered with each lick and suck, because Will's motions caused the blunt head of the shorter dildo to press against her g-spot. Her fingers threaded through his hair, and pulled him further down as she arched her back.

Will's eyes were closed as his mouth watered. It had been too long, he'd denied himself too much. The girth almost made his jaw ache; it was going to leave him slightly sore in the morning and the thought made him suck harder.

His arms were still around Molly's waist, and he gripped her ass tightly, squeezing and kneading her cheeks together. He should have been embarrassed by the slurping noises coming from his mouth, but he wasn't.

Molly let Will suck until she was close to coming. Pulling back, the cock slid out of Will's mouth with a wet pop, and his lips were red and puffy. "Turn around and face the wall, on your knees."

Shaking slightly, Will did as he was told, palming his hard cock. 

Molly leaned over, and from the bedside table she took a bottle of lubrication, a couple of condoms, and a studded black leather collar. Crawling back to Will, she draped the leather strip around his throat and snapped it at his nape.

Will's fingers traced the studs and the leather. When he realized that he'd been collared, he had a brief moment of silent panic; this was a mark of ownership that only Hannibal had made him feel. 

But his body jerked in surprised arousal when Molly's slick fingers started probing him. He gave a hoarse shout, going down on all fours with his ass in the air to give her better access.

And she took advantage of it, kissing Will's back and neck even as her fingers slipped into the collar to haul him back for more kisses.

Seeking reassurance as much as offering, Molly finally released Will's mouth and led his hand back. His fingers closed around Molly's cock, feeling the condom over the silicone, and the slickness of the rubber. "That's enough?" Molly asked, not wanting to hurt her husband. 

"More than," he lied. He wanted it to burn, to feel the stretch of his ass around the cock fucking him. He went back down to his elbows and raised his ass again. 

Steadying her cock with one hand, she pressed the head against Will's opening, pushing firmly.

Will forced himself to relax, but even with the stretch, his muscles burned as Molly thrust in. In and out, tiny rolls of her hips until her cock was completely buried in Will's ass.

His teeth sunk into his lower lip, and he couldn't breathe from the fullness. He twitched experimentally, feeling his hole throb around the intruder. "Fuck me, please," Will begged.

Molly caught her breath; she'd never heard that raw, throaty need from Will's throat before. Rocking was the familiar motion, and she did just that, her cock sliding out and back in.

"Faster, Molly, please faster." Will grunted lewdly with every push of her cock. He needed more, hard and fast and dirty, a dark voice whispering bloody love in his ear, and Will forced himself to say his wife's name to remind himself who was taking care of him.

Molly felt heady with control. Will was begging beneath her, and she was getting nicely fucked herself. Faster was easy, and she dragged her nails over his skin just to see him shiver.

Will's back arched into the scratches, panting harshly as he fought to breathe. Molly's rough thrusting drove the silicone deeper, and even through the condom he could feel the exaggerated veins dragging against his body.

He caught the sheets in his fists and muffled the moans until he could control himself.

They were both sweating now, and Molly felt like an animal. She clawed at Will's skin for traction, grabbing his waist and yanking him back. Her breathing was harsh and fast, and her teeth were bared.

Will's head was down when Molly keened a sharp cry as the toy end inside her finally made her come. Only then did he reach for the aching log of his cock.

Using the collar, Molly hauled Will back and slapped his hands. "Let me." Reaching around, Molly stroked Will's cock until he came in a shuddering mess.

She held him through the orgasm, and when he had finished, she pulled out of his body and unsnapped the harness. 

Will's hands came around to hold the harness while she lifted herself off, then dropped it to the floor. "I love you, Will," Molly said softly, feeling like it was important she say that.

"I love you, Molly. Thank you; I needed that." He burrowed close to her, tucking her against his body. "We can do that again."

Molly laughed softly, and kissed her husband. "Course we will."

_I'm sorry, Hannibal_

The End


	9. whumped!Will and unrequited Zeller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is kidnapped and incapacitated by a killer. Brian Zeller's the only one still out looking for him.

Will was so deeply immersed in reading the crime scene and the mind of the murderer that he didn't hear the shouted warnings from the forensic team, he didn't even hear Jack's shout.

All he knew was, one minute he was walking in the killer's footsteps, and the next, he was being ripped out of his mind by an arm around his throat. 

He flailed, trying to regain his footing, but he was being restrained by too large a man. Will tried to wrench free, but he ended up screaming as he tore his shoulder out of its socket.

A heavy wave of nausea hit him as the pain washed over him, and for a brief instant, Will nearly passed out.

Pounding feet came behind them, and he could make out Jack's burly shoulders, Beverly's dark hair, and somebody's muddy boots and blue jeans–Brian had been wearing Wolverine work boots when they'd called him in.

A rope snare snapped, eliciting a scream from Beverly as she dangled upside down. He could hear voices, but couldn't make out words as they got further away.

The pounding of his shoulder was excruciating, and he could only raise one arm to protect himself from the scratches and scrapes of the branches slapping his face. His hair yanked as it tangled in the brush, and Will couldn't help thinking of Absalom, tangled so deeply in the brambles he couldn't be freed. David had had to decapitate his son to free his body.

He blacked out.

________________________________________

The room was dark except for the Coleman lantern on the table, and the fire in the fireplace. A hunk of deer meat was roasting on a spit in the fireplace, and Will's head was throbbing. His hands were tied, but thankfully in front of him, and not behind.

His body hurt all over, and there was the foul, metallic taste of old blood in his mouth. He didn't know from what until he tried to breathe deep and realized he'd had a nosebleed. 

"Water, please," he croaked out.

The man sitting at the table didn't move, and Will tried again, louder. "Can I have some water?"

When that didn't get a response, Will kicked the chair. 

The man's body fell, showing Will a gaping hole in the back of his head. His jaw was gone, tongue half destroyed, and Will retched.

Struggling to his feet was a chore, but he had no other choice. Once he was up, he picked up the lantern, and tried the door. 

To his surprise, it opened easily, and Will staggered out into the woods.

When he stepped out, he realized that it was pitch black. Clouds covered the moon, and with a little twitching, he got his watch angled so he could read. About half past midnight; would anyone be looking this time of night, or would they wait for daylight?

His questions were answered by a flashlight, bobbing in the dark. He couldn't lift the lantern, but he could swing it, and he called out hoarsely. "I need help!"

"Will?" Masculine, and as it got closer, he recognized it as Zeller. "Will! That you, man? Stay where you are, I'm coming to you!"

Will nearly dropped the lantern as he sagged against the door. He was getting a little dizzy, and he just waited for Brian to get there.

A few minutes later, Zeller found Will slumped against the door of a small cabin that wasn't on the map. "Hey, Will. Man, we've been looking for you all day."

"He's dead," Will slurred out, even as he felt Brian saw through the restraints. "Suicide."

"We heard a gunshot earlier, hours ago, but we couldn't pinpoint it." He could tell one of Will's arms was injured, so he slung the good one over his shoulder. "Come on, let's get back in. This guy littered the woods with traps; it's not safe in the dark."

Zeller helped Will back into the cabin. The furnishings were sparse, so he settled for the tablecloth to cover the killer's head and shoulders.

"Traps?" The mention of traps made him remember. "Beverly, is she–"

"Bev's okay. We got her down, just sprained her ankle when the snare got her. She's already home, and Jimmy's with her. Jack's mobilizing some search parties from Quantico, but they won't be ready until daybreak." Brian was explaining things simply because he didn't think Will was taking it all in.  
He moved quickly to take the venison out of the fire before the cabin burned around them.

It wasn't until Zeller turned around that Will noticed the backpack, and Brian swung it off as soon as he had taken care of the spit.

"Okay, close your eyes, Will. Let me see those scratches." Brian brought the lantern up to Will's face. It was covered in dried blood, and he couldn't see past it. "Don't move. There's a rain barrel outside, I'll get water."

"Be careful. It's not safe in the dark," Will echoed. 

Brian patted Will's hand, giving a little squeeze as he moved it back to Will's lap. "I'll be okay."

Will sort of drifted in and out until Brian came back with a metal pail full of water. "Almost got bit by a bear trap by the barrel, but I set it off."

Will focused on one thing. "Can I please have some water?"

"Yeah, sure." Zeller hunted around for a cup, came up empty, and thought for a moment. Then he cupped his hands together, dipped into the bucket, and brought both hands to Will's mouth. "Here you go. Sip slow, there's plenty more."

Will had no choice but to drink slowly; Zeller was trickling the water out slowly until his hands were empty. "Thanks."

"No problem." Wiping his hands on his pants, he dug through the backpack and brought out a handful of gauze squares. "Gonna wash your face so I can see how bad you're hurt."

The water had cleared his head a little. "Uh, I think I had a nosebleed, but nothing's broken. My shoulder is the worst, it's dislocated."

"I can help you get it back in, if you want." Brian looked vaguely embarrassed. "I helped the football team in high school. I know dislocated everything. Gonna hurt, though."

"Hurts now," Will muttered. 

"Okay. I'm gonna count to three, and on three, I'll pop it back. You count it." He braced his hands on Will's arm and shoulder.

Will drew in a breath, counted "One," then screamed as Brian snapped the dislocated joint back into place. His vision swam, and the water threatened to come back up. "Fucker!"

"Hey, I got you." Will realized that he'd actually blacked out a moment or two, and Brian had caught him in a hug against his chest.

"Help me get me belt off. We can use it to strap my arm down." The excruciating pain had switched to a deep aching throb, and it was lifting some of the fog from his mind. "Brian? What–what are you doing here?"

"Oh, there you are. I was getting worried." He grinned at Will. "Feeling better?"

"As opposed to?" He couldn't help rubbing his shoulder. He'd already torn his rotator cuff as a young man, now this. Will fervently hoped he wasn't going to need surgery. 

Zeller got close to Will, and reached for his belt buckle. He was proud of the fact his hands didn't shake, not even when Will's fingers pressed the catch to the buckle. "We were all looking for you, but Beverly got caught in the rope trap," he explained, pulling Will's belt loose loop by loop. "Jimmy went back with her, and I went ahead of Jack. We found your phone about five, six miles from here, so Jack took it back to Quantico and started arrangements for searchers. I kept going. I set off a lot of bear traps, saw a few rope snare traps, and hit one tripwire. Then I saw your lantern." 

Once Will's belt was free, Brian wrapped it around Will's injured arm, then around his chest to buckle over his shoulder. "I think I got something in the backpack for that."

Kneeling down, Brian hid a flushed face in the backpack. He dug around and came across a bag of blister-packed pills, and at the very bottom, an empty canteen. After a moment, he left it hidden.  
"Okay, we got…" Brian tilted the packs towards the firelight. "Awesome, ibuprofen or naproxen," he read. "Preference?"

"Morphine. I'll take the ibuprofen." Brian obediently punched out four orange pills and passed them to Will, and dipped another handful of water out of the bucket.

Will popped the pills into his mouth, then steadied himself with a hand on Zeller's wrist as he washed them down. "Thanks."

"Welcome." He picked up the gauze squares and handed them to Will. "Here, you work on washing your face, I'll get out the bandages."

"Fair enough." Will sat close to the bucket, enough to reach it but not contaminate it. "Why didn't you go back with Jack?" 

"After we heard the gunshot, nobody wanted to give up. I had a Mag-Lite and the ability to walk in the dark." He shrugged. "Jimmy likes bugs, Bev's an art fan, I hike. It was a pretty simple choice."

"Well, I owe you." Will was scrubbing hard, flaking off the crusted blood and working on the second layer. Brian picked up another handful, wetted them thoroughly, and started scrubbing too. 

Before he could stop, Brian had caught Will's chin, holding him still and occasionally tilting or turning to wipe oozing blood or get rid of a shadow. "There, that's not so bad."

Will sat docile, allowing Brian to move him around as necessary. "Not so bad?"

"Well, there's scratches and scrapes, but nothing needing stitches," he clarified. "But there's one on your forehead I want to tape, just in case." There was a patch of three raw spots in particular, and he spread antibiotic ointment over the three spots before taping a bandage in place.

Zeller daubed several other spots that quickly stopped bleeding, then inspected Will's face closely.  
Will's lashes fluttered as he blinked.

Brian swallowed hard, hoping Will didn't notice. Luck was with him, and Will didn't notice anything until Brian was safely repacking the backpack. 

"Leave it out, my hands are going to need it, and I'm going to need help washing them." He wiggled his fingers. "In this case, one hand does not wash the other."

Brian looked at Will's outstretched hand. It was covered in cuts and scratches from where it'd shielded his face. "Yeah, you got a point."

Dragging the bucket over, Brian dunked Will's hand in the cold water, then plunged his own in after. His hands surrounded Will's in the bucket, scrubbing it clean. Briefly their fingers intertwined as Brian scrubbed between them, but it didn't seem to bother Will.

After a thorough scrubbing, Brian lifted Will's hand and examined it closely. With the blood and dirt gone, the scrapes didn't look nearly so bad, except for one across the meaty part, the heel of his hand. "This hurt?" He asked, rubbing his thumb gently over the raw patch.

"Not too bad," Will answered after a moment's consideration. "Though that might be the cold water."

Brian hadn't noticed the cold because his hands had been busy. "I'll cover it up just in case."

Will sat patiently, and let Brian smear more antibiotic ointment on his hand and tape a layer of gauze over it. "You're really good at first aid."

"We all took a course last summer. Me, Beverly, Jimmy. CPR is a requirement, because you never know when you'll have to revive a corpse. But we all agreed that it wouldn't hurt to get certified in first aid in case one of us got hurt on a scene," be explained, finally letting Will's hand drop.

"Given the situation, I'm very glad you did." Will leaned his head against the wall, then shivered. "Getting cold in here."

The fire was starting to die down; Brian stirred it back to life, and tossed the last piece of wood from the hearth into the flames. "Move over here, and I'm taking the lantern. We need fresh water and I'll check for firewood. Rest if you can, I won't be offended if you fall asleep on me."

"Might take you up on that. Be careful," he called after Brian's retreating form.

The brisk night air felt wonderfully cool on Brian's flushed cheeks. The compliment to his first aid, and the call of concern had him smiling as he dumped out the bloody water and dipped out a clean bucket full. 

Lantern held aloft, Jimmy walked around the small cabin, avoiding two more tripwire traps before discovering a pile of split logs. Afraid of what the wires might be attached to, he climbed over them instead of setting them off, and got back to the cabin.

Will was dozing against the wall near the fireplace, and Brian stayed quiet as he moved around the dead man, put the bucket and the lantern on the table, and picked up his backpack to use as a pillow on the floor.

"You're going to freeze down there." Will's eyes were closed, and he was stretched out with his back to the fireplace. A sleeping bag was laid out, and Will shrugged. "It was under the chair, so I took it and spread it."

Brian knew Will was right. He moved over to the fireplace, and laid down beside Will. "Want to share my pillow?" he asked, shuffling the backpack over so both their heads fit.

________________________________________

Brian woke first, needing to use the bathroom. Sometime in the night, he'd shifted over and draped an arm and leg over Will's. His only consolation was the fact that Will was oblivious and sleeping the sleep of the injured and exhausted. 

He slipped outside, took care of business, and then came back in to wash his hands and face. "Hey, Will?"

Will grunted, but woke to the nagging pain and stiffness. Brian had four more ibuprofen waiting, and he let Will drink out of his hands for the last time. 

"It's not a stretch to say, I owe you my life," Will pointed out as he and Brian stood on the steps of the tiny cabin. "Pretty sure that Hannibal will want to throw you a banquet for all this."

_I didn't do it for Dr. Lecter_ danced on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't let it escape. "That'd be great, man."

End


	10. demon!Hannibal and sacrifice!Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glasyalabolas (but he really prefers the name Hannibal) has come to collect his yearly sacrifice, only to find Will Graham dangling over the volcano. (it's pronounced glassy-ab-oh-lass)

(fyi, it’s pronounced glassy-ab-oh-lass)

He had come to help, that’s all. That’s all he’d ever wanted to do, was to help people. Instead, Will Graham, a teacher from Wolf Trap, Maryland, found himself bound and gagged and tied to a pole leaning over the rim of what looked to be a very active volcano. 

The people below were chanting, dancing around a bonfire ringed by skull-topped poles, and Will was definitely worried that his skull was going to become the next centerpiece in the party. They were calling to a demon, Glasyalabolas, a shapeshifting entity that promised to consume the souls of every man, woman, and child in the village every year unless a single sacrifice was offered. If the sacrifice was acceptable, then Glasyalabolas would leave the tiny Pacific village in peace.

This year, they’d decided that the American Schoolteacher would be a nifty sacrifice, and so in the middle of the night, they’d crept into the hut where Will had been staying, and pounced on him. He’d fought, but every man in the village joined the fray, and soon, he was tied down, hands behind his back, and dangling from a pole with a gag in his mouth.

The “purification” ritual was a joke; ceremonial knives were used to cut his clothes off his body, and he was washed–fully bound–in carefully collected rainwater and lotus leaf nectar, and then over the ropes, he was re-dressed in white robes. 

Then he was re-tied to the pole and carried up the long trail to the rim of the volcano, where he’d honestly expected to be thrown in. Instead, he was left there, pole tilting about thirty degrees over the volcano.

“If Glasyalabolas likes you, he cuts your ropes and catches you before you fall. If he does not, you fall into the volcano and he comes for our village,” explained the Elder. He was the one in charge of the sacrifical process, and perhaps he’d felt it would reassure Will’s mind to know why he was being thrown to his death. 

It really didn’t.

He’d composed an entire rant behind his gag: _You realize that Glasyalabolas doesn’t exist, it’s a social construct put in place to encourage a particular brand of behavior that has now been codified past it’s point of usefulness. Also, lava in the volcano doesn’t just sit around and bubble like it’s a Jacuzzi. There’s tectonic plates shifting that cause cracks in the crust, and forces magma up through those cracks. Eventually there’s enough pressure to cause an eruption. I don’t think your Glasyalabolas is going to appreciate a foreign sacrifice, you know!_

Of course, none of it was said, but he gained some measure of self-comfort out of reciting it over and over in his head as the sweat dripped and ran in uncomfortable places, stinging his eyes and plinking off his chin. 

“Well, what are you?” 

Will blinked. It had to be the sweat stinging his eyes, along with a deep heat delirium, that was causing him to see the great winged man hovering right beneath him. He was, ridiculously enough, wearing a three-piece suit–who WORE those, anyway?– and hovering on what looked like moth or butterfly wings, with vaguely skull-shaped decorations in them. The being gestured, and the gag fell away as if pulled by invisible hands. "Oh, Christ, thank you.“

The being looked mildly amused. "Not even close. Who are you and why are you here?”

“Uh, isn’t that the question I ought to be asking you?” Will asked, flexing his jaw and sighing in relief, now that he could actually close his mouth. "Since I’m the one imagining you?“

What he wasn’t imagining was a cool breeze that wafted over him, and he realized it had to be the breeze from the creature’s wings. 

"I have many names; the tiny goldfish in this village call me Glasyalabolas, but I prefer Hannibal.”

“Hannibal,” Will repeated.

“Much easier on the tongue, don’t you think, than Glasyalabolas?” He remained hovering in front of Will. "Whatever am I going to do with you?“

"Since you’re a fever dream, I don’t think you’re going to do anything.” 

Hannibal laughed, and his wings fluttered faster, increasing the cooling breeze that flickered over Will’s face. "Normally, I’d let you fall to your death for something like that, but I’ve never run into a person like you here. I’d expect to find you in other places.“

"And just what do I get out of it?” Hannibal asked, amused by the audacity.

“You get to help someone out?” Will phrased it as a question, because he was afraid that if he said it directly, with all the sarcasm it deserved, he’d be left here to burn.

Hannibal’s laughter echoed in the volcano like rumbling thunder, and it made the lava bubble enticingly. He laughed so hard he nearly fell out of the sky, but leveled off and returned to hover in front of Will. "You’re such an adorable little goldfish, my friend. You think you’re king of the pond and you don’t know that all you are is a tiny little thing, with no more memory than what happened to you a few years ago. I remember things that happened when the world began, when the world was far more than the tiny tank you’ve created for yourselves now. I suppose you could imagine me to be the fisherman, cleaning out the tank once in awhile and having himself a little snack.“ 

"You’re going to EAT ME?” Will got a little hysterical at that thought.

“Well, yes. You thought this was going to end another way?” When Hannibal smiled this time, his teeth were bright and razor-sharp, and his tongue looked like the blade of a knife. Will started struggling at that, and the pole started to creak and shift. "Oh-oh. I’d be still if I didn’t want to plunge to a fiery death.“

"Better than being eaten!” Will shrieked.

“Silly little fish, haven’t you ever heard of blackened Cajun?”

Will would have been flailing, except for the fact that his arms were tied down. "You know, this is a very disturbing conversation to have here. I was told that you’d be either cutting me down or letting me fall.“

"I’m deciding,” Hannibal said with a grin.

“What’s there to decide?” Will demanded. “You pick me up and you put me down!”

“Nobody explained the fine print to you, did they?” The creature sounded almost sympathetic. "You see, when you’re sacrificed to Glasyalabolas, he–that is, I–eats you. Most assuredly your flesh and bones, but also your soul.“ He shrugged as if to say, **that’s just how I was created** and continued. "However, the release the goldfish may have mentioned is the release of your soul. I can either devour it into nothingness, or I can release it to return home to whatever its home might be.”

“There’s not a third option that doesn’t involve being eaten?” Will asked plaintively, not really wanting to be a snack for a demon that really probably didn’t exist.

“This is what I get for dealing with goldfish. No, my friend, there is no third option. Well.” He tapped his chin. "There is a third option, although no soul has ever actually exercised it.“

"What’s the third option?” Because he was about to take it unheard and unseen, but caution reminded him accepting a mission to teach in the far Pacific islands is what got him into this mess. 

“I devour your flesh and bones, and your soul is freed but chooses to remain as a companion to Glasyalabolas. For eternity. That’s the catch that most people don’t like.”

Will blinked. "I asked for a third option that didn’t require being eaten alive!“

"Oh, if that’s all that’s bothering you, you’ll be dead when I eat you.” He shuddered. "Some demons prefer sushi; I prefer a well-cooked meal.“

"Cooked as in dropped in the volcano?”

“No, cooked as in taken to a kitchen and prepared. Your ribs will likely be served as a rack, your shoulders and flanks as a nice dinner roast, the backstrap as–”

“Oh my _GOD_ , shut up will you!” shrieked Will, who really _didn’t_ need to hear himself described as what’s on the menu. 

“If it helps at all, you won’t be aware of it, unless you want to hang around and watch the preparation,” Hannibal pointed out.

“No. Uh, no, thank you, that doesn’t really help at all. Thanks.” He really, really regretted taking that teaching job. He could’ve stayed at Quantico, helped catch serial killers. But no. He had to be _altruistic._

“Yes, doing good deeds does come back to bite you in the ass, doesn’t it?” The shark-like teeth shone through the smile.

“Yes, it do–are you reading my mind?”

“Yes, I am, didn’t you realize?”

“Okay, so, to sum up to this point, I’m dead and dinner no matter what. The only choice is, do I get my soul eaten, my soul sent back to heaven–sorry, it’s how I was raised–or become the bestie best pal of the demon that killed me.”

Hannibal raised a finger. "There’s some more fine print of which you should be made aware. It puts you in a mighty fine predicament.“

"I’m already _in_ a mighty fine predicament.”“Well. This complicates things a bit more, but I like you. And so I feel that I should be upfront with you on all the caveats.” 

“Which is?”

“Well, the companionship that I mentioned is… well, it’s actually more like a marriage. Exactly like, in fact.”

Will blinked. "Marriage.“

"Is what brings us together today,” Hannibal deadpanned. "I didn’t write the fine print, you know. You little goldfish wrote it all when the world began and you decided that demons like myself would be bound by the conventions you created. You’d have all been a lot better off if you hadn’t decided to be afraid of us. Ah, well. The fine print reads that to escape devouring or release, a soul must be eternally wedded to Glasyalabolas. Back in the day, it was always a buxom young virgin, so they didn’t have a problem using the term. However, nowadays, it’s a little more complicated than that.“

"Marriage. Uh, since death has already done us part, how does that work?”

“That’s it, basically. Because death has already parted us, the bond in the afterlife is absolute and eternal, because nothing _can_ break it.” 

“That… that actually sounds like an exploitation of the fine print rather than a limitation of it,” Will pointed out.

“Semantics,” Hannibal dismissed with a chuff. "So, Will, what’s the decision? Nothingness, heaven or hell, or… well, me.“

"There seriously isn’t a non-eating option?”

“Sorry.” Hannibal tilted his head as he studied Will, reading his thoughts and digging down through the layers. "Oh, I see. That’s… that’s very interesting.“

"Hey! Out of my head!” Will shook his head, as if that was going to help. 

But Hannibal withdrew obediently, and grinned. His teeth had dulled to normal, however. "That was educational.“ Hannibal’s arms crossed over his chest. "All right. I can clarify a few things for you. I’m not a part of the God/Lucifer debate. A kid having a snit because Daddy liked the other kids better is not anything I’m having anything to do with.”

Will opened his mouth to question, but Hannibal went onwards.

“No, I’m not down with all the other pantheons. They have nothing to do with me and I nothing to do with them. I exist on my own, as do most demons. Our stories and names are merely co-opted and changed to fill in open spaces in their stories when they need someone bad or evil.” Hannibal buffed his nails on his suit jacket, and they looked very much like claws. "And yes, I am completely serious about eating you.“

"I’m… um, thank you, I think?” Will was having a headache. And a crisis of faith. And a possible crisis of EVERYTHING ELSE because he was seriously considering the existence of Glasyalabolas as a legitimate thing.

Hannibal just yawned. "Take your time, little goldfish. I have eternity.“ He folded his wings and floated to perch on the lip of the volcano beside Will.

And made no secret that he was looking under the robes. 

"Hey!!”

“Give me a break, you’ve got to give me some kind of entertainment.” His smirk was back in full force.

“I think I kinda hate you.”

“You think you do, but you don’t.” More smirking. "If you weren’t tied up like this, you’d actually kind of like me, at least, that’s what you were thinking earlier. And you were also thinking that if I were a real person, I’d be your… type.“ He maybe could have laden more suggestiveness into the word, but he knew what he’d put in there was enough.

"Get out of my head, Hannibal.” 

“But it’s so delicious and dark in there! There are a lot of different corners in there that you rarely ever go, and those are places we could explore together, you know. Your mind stays intact, you realize. You’ll even have a… what do you call it, residual self-image?”

Will blinked. "You’re a Netflix junkie.“

"Isn’t everyone these days? I’m so delighted by the things you all come up with.” Hannibal crossed his legs and sat primly straight and quiet. "There, I’m shushed,“ he said, before Will even had to say it.

"Sh–” He sighed. Deeply. "What’s the deal on this marriage thing?“

"You won’t have to worry about prima nocte, if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t share with my otherkind. You would be bound, eternally and permanently, to me, without recourse. Eventually you would gain your own form, drawn from the flesh of sacrifices taken over time. Even if you choose not to partake of them, through the bonding of the soul, you would benefit from it. That form would even come to resemble who you once used to be, or if you chose another form, that would be perfectly acceptable. I am a shapeshifter, after all. Imagine it, we could run the world’s forest as stags, swim their oceans as Great Whites, fly their skies as eagles.”

Will licked his lips. The lure of running free, perhaps as an animal, even a dog–oh, he was going to miss petting dogs, hugging dogs, walking and feeding and owning dogs. 

“You don’t have to, you know. Wolves make excellent familiars, and until you have your own form, you could possess theirs for a short time. You would know what it feels like.” 

“Get out of my head, Hannibal,” Will said again.

“Ah, but you didn’t say it with rancor, that’s progress.” 

“Say I say no, what happens?”

“I eat your soul, and then attack the village.”

“You’re not even being remotely joking this time, are you?”

“No, sadly, I’m not. It would not please me, of course, but that is what they expect. If I am disappointed with my sacrifice, I will take them all. That is the story, is it not? And I am Glasyalabolas.” Hannibal still stayed still and quiet after delivering that final bit of the offer. Except for, “That’s all the fine print.”

“Say I say yes.” 

“To save the village?” Hannibal asked.

“Sure, why not, I really want to save the people who’re gonna feed me headfirst to a horny, smooth-talking demon.” A roll of his eyes, and he was starting to sweat again without the cooling fan of Hannibal’s wings. "Get your wings back over here and fan me.“

Hannibal obediently lifted into the air and drifted in front of Will, his wings beating a strong updraft to fan Will with slightly cooler air. It made it easier for him to think. "Thank you, Hannibal.”

“You’re welcome, little goldfish.”

“You’re really not going to stop calling me that, are you?” Will asked with a deeply felt sigh.

“No, I’m really not.” Hannibal laughed softly. "An exceptionally appealing and amusing goldfish is still a goldfish nonetheless.“ 

Will sighed, but he had one more question. "About this marriage thing.”

“Yes?”

“How would it work, exactly?” 

“No chapel, no wedding, nothing like that. After you are consumed, your soul stands in the Void, and all you have to do is reach your hand out. You will find my hand reaching for you, and I shall pull you back from the Void and into me. You will be a part of me, and yet, still wholly separate. You’ll still be Will Graham, whomever he was, and yet, you will also be a part of Glasyalabolas.”

“Uh, that’s not exactly what I was asking.”

“Oh, I know.” Hannibal was smirking. "But I’m going to make you ask it first, since you don’t seem to like it when I dip into your mind.“

"I really hate you.” But Will sighed. "How does it… you know. work. Physically.“

"Are you asking me to have sex with you, Will?” 

He hadn’t thought he could actually blush that hard. But he could almost taste it on his tongue as his face fired up, then it spread down his neck and chest. "Well, when you talk about marriage, that’s usually a part of it.“ 

Hannibal remained mute, though his smirk was threatening to outgrow his head. 

"Fine. Yes. How does sex with you work, Hannibal?”

“I actually prefer it on top, whether I’m giving or receiving. And I’m a big fan of blow jobs, and if you can’t deepthroat, that’s okay, I’ll help you learn. Oh, and how do you feel about swallowing, by the way?”

Will choked hard. "ALSO NOT WHAT I WAS ASKING.“

"But it’s all pertinent information.” He licked his lips. "If you’re asking about mechanics, it works exactly the same way as it would for a physical being. Except there’s less sweat and more merging of souls.“

"If it helps,” Will said after a moment of strangling on his own breath. "I’m not terrible at oral, but it’s been awhile.“ 

"That’s okay. We’ll get you in the swing of things.” He reached out and patted Will on the shoulder. "Dare I take that as a yes?“

"Yes, it’s yes.” Will sighed softly. "I, Will Graham, take you Hannibal Glasyalabolas, to be… what, my eternally wedded demon?“

"That will certainly do.” Hannibal’s eyes glowed a bright red, and his nails sprouted into claws. They swiped down the back of the pole, shredding both Will’s white robes and the ropes holding him to the pole, and caught him before he plummeted more than a few feet. A long, snake-like tongue peeked out and licked from Will’s chin to his cock, wrapping around the limp length and tugging teasingly. "Close your eyes, William,“ he hissed, letting his tongue slide back in. "And when you wake up, you’ll be mine.”

Will shuddered at the tongue licking over his body, and his arms tightened reflexively around Hannibal’s neck. He closed his eyes to fight the feeling of falling, and then there was nothing. 

—

Something smelled delicious. The tantalizing scent of cooking meat woke Will up, and he stretched. He realized he was laid on a sinfully soft bed, naked as the day he was born. No clothes anywhere around, but even as he thought about clothes, a black robe with a green dragon embroidered on the lapel materialized around him. It fit him perfectly, almost as if it’d been tailored to fit him. "Hello?“

"William!” Hannibal’s voice was cheerful from the other room. "Breakfast is almost ready; if you’d like breakfast in bed, I can certainly arrange it.“

Will belted the robe around his waist, breathing in the smells of delicious food. He wasn’t sure what he expected; a cave, maybe, with rock walls and such, but what he found was… "Hannibal? A penthouse, really?”

“No, not really. It’s actually a single dwelling, three floors, stone facade, dormer windows, and Tiffany stained glass downstairs and in the attic.”

“You’re a primadonna!” Will accused, and stepped into the kitchen. A dining room was beyond with two plates set, the head of the table and one on the left hand. 

“You expected less, little goldfish?”

Will yawned again, stretching his shoulders and waiting for the pop that didn’t come. "Huh. That’s handy.“ He sniffed the stove as he walked by, and perched on a barstool that let him watch Hannibal’s hands fly over the knives that were dicing potatoes, peppers, onions, and something green he couldn’t identify.

"Chives,” Hannibal offered. 

“Are you ever going to stop reading my mind?”

“Do you really want me to?” Hannibal put down the knife and reflected back at Will the image that he’d picked up floating in the back of his little goldfish’s mind. 

Hannibal was still standing at the stove, chopping just as he was, except he was completely naked, and Will was just watching appreciatively. 

“Terribly unsanitary. I do not approve of nudity in the kitchen.”

Will spat out the sip of coffee he’d just taken from the cup that seemed to appear out of nowhere.  
Hannibal just tossed him a towel, and Will mopped up the coffee. "You see? You’ve come to like having me in your mind.“

"How long have I been here and don’t remember?” Will asked, curiously. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t exactly disturbed by the idea. 

“Eighteen months.” 

Will blinked. "That long, huh.“ He put the coffee cup down and tried to wrap his brain around it. "You didn’t mention the whole time loss thing.” 

“I did mention it would take time for you to become accustomed to things,” Hannibal pointed out, and when he looked at Will, it was with a surprising softness. "You’ve been behaving perfectly normally, for you. I devoured a single sacrifice while you were… sleeping, and it is his substance which is lending you substance.“ 

That was a little icky to contemplate. "That him you cooking?” That was equally as repulsive.

“No, this is something special I’ve saved for our first breakfast really together.” Hannibal turned the sausages on the stove, and began searing two steaks on a flat griddle. "Here, take your coffee and sit at the table. I’ll bring the first course.“ 

"First course? There’s more than one course for breakfast?”

“For us, yes.”

“Well, don’t overcook mine,” Will said suddenly. "I like it a little rare.“ 

"Yes, I’m sure you do.” Hannibal’s teeth were sharp, and didn’t comment on the fact that Will’s were sharpening. "I’ll keep yours a little pink.“ A secret grin.

"You know, it’s not fair I can’t read your mind,” Will complained, moving to the table with his coffee cup. 

“Eventually you will, when we are completely integrated with each other. You and I are bound, and we will integrate completely over time. A few decades, maybe a little longer. Your time is coming, little goldfish.”

“Still?”

“Always. You’ll always be my little goldfish, Will.” 

“Man-eater.” Will stuck out his tongue, and leaned back as Hannibal brought a plate filled with sausage and fried potatoes and eggs and a toasted croissant with butter and honey. "There’s no way I’m gonna eat all this.“

"You’ll be surprised at your appetite, Will,” is all Hannibal said, bringing the steaks in and laying them artfully on a plate with a squiggle of something red and a garnish of parsley and thyme. 

He already was; the sight of the food made Will feel absolutely famished, and he fell to eating like he was starved. Hannibal merely watched a moment, feeling absolute adoration for this tiny little creature devouring himself.

That was the secret ingredient in this morning’s breakfast; Will’s bits and pieces had been ground into fine link sausage, and the steaks were the last rib cuts.

The sausage disappeared first, wolfed down in the initial wave of Will’s hunger. Eggs and potatoes were the next course, and they disappeared far too quickly. The buttery croissant was merely a palate-clenser; with a nod from Hannibal, Will dragged one of the two steaks onto his plate. 

He didn’t bother cutting into it; he tore into it with teeth he didn’t even realize were getting sharp. Blood coursed down Will’s chin, splattered onto his face as he tore into the barely-cooked flesh, and Hannibal was smiling. Oh yes, he was delightful; the time in the Void had only served to hone the darkness, bring it to the surface and Will hadn’t even realized. 

When the first was gone, Will gave a tiny growl when Hannibal took the second for himself. "Now, Will, we share everything, remember? You will benefit from this as I will.“ 

He looked like he’d ripped someone’s throat out. Blood dripped down his cheeks, off his chin, out of his mouth, and his tongue licked his lips as he tasted it and wanted more. "Hannibal, what’s–”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” he finished for him, reaching out to stroke his hair softly. "You’re just starving. Not just for food, for everything. You should have told me how lonely you were, little goldfish, I wouldn’t have played with you so long. You’re starving for touch, to be close to someone, and that’s nothing I’ve done to you. But you can sate yourself.“

"How?” Will asked, tempted to lick the plates clean. 

“Me,” Hannibal said simply. "Come to me, let me hold you, feel me close to you and know that you and I belong to each other.“ 

Will almost knocked his chair over in his haste to get to Hannibal, and the demon’s table suddenly dematerialized, leaving a clear path to him. Will followed it like a homing missile, knocking Hannibal out of the chair and straddling his legs. 

Hannibal was very careful to let Will move how he wanted to, but when he landed on top, Hannibal forced him to roll, so that he was the one straddling Will’s hips. "What do you want, little goldfish?”  
He nearly couldn’t hold himself back, seeing Will’s face bloody and hungry under him. He’d been imagining the man’s face just like this since he’d been tied at the top of the volcano, and it was here and just missing one thing. 

Will’s mouth opened to speak, and Hannibal surged forward, his cock already hard and ready for anything Will offered. Hannibal pushed into Will’s mouth, fingers knotting in his hair and pulling him forward, pushing deeper and deeper.

He wasn’t expecting the lunge of cock into his mouth; Will’s hands braced against Hannibal’s thighs, not even trying to push him off as he rubbed hungrily against his skin. Long, hungry strokes, soft moans that vibrated against Hannibal’s cock, his nails digging into hot skin as he started to choke. 

“You don’t have to breathe, you know,” Hannibal panted out, his cock lodged in Will’s throat. 

Will’s eyes were closed and he let it go, just stopping trying to catch his breath as he concentrated just on sucking. Hannibal’s knees pressed painfully into Will’s shoulders, and he welcomed it all. 

Hannibal’s tongue turned into the long, snake-like tongue that Will remembered from the volcano, and it licked over his face, tasting the blood without cleaning it off. His fingers stayed tangled in Will’s hair, and kept his cock buried in Will’s throat. "Swallow,“ he hissed. 

Will did what he was told, swallowing around Hannibal’s cock and feeling the huge shaft twitch in his throat. He pressed his hands against Hannibal’s legs, gripping tight and hauling him in closer.

Hannibal was breathing hard, feeling his cock sliding in and out of Will’s throat. The grip on his thighs only made his strokes more cruel, fucking Will’s face so hard that his balls bounced off Will’s chin. 

He was drooling around Hannibal’s cock, slurping and sucking hard as the thrusts got harder and rougher. **Don’t stop** , Will thought, knowing Hannibal could be reading his mind and hoping he was shouting it loud enough.

He was; it was all Hannibal could hear in his head. **Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.** HE growled sharply, his tongue licking at Will’s stretched lips. "I won’t stop,” he promised.

But he did pull out of the wet clasp of Will’s throat, stroking his cock hard with his fist. "Trust me, Will,“ he hissed softly, and Will obediently stilled under him. Another hard hiss made it out of Hannibal’s mouth, and his cock was jerking hot come all over Will’s bloody face. Pink-tinged streaks rolled over his cheeks and mouth, even as he opened up to swallow it all in. 

"Close,” Hannibal ordered, rubbing the head of his still-spurting cock over Will’s lips, smearing it as he gazed down at the work of art beneath him.

Hannibal’s orgasm eventually ran out, and he forbid Will to move. Instead, he turned around, surprising Will with the snake’s tongue flickering over his balls and between his cheeks to taste the tight hole he’d yet to touch. 

Will’s back arched, legs spreading instinctively as he urged Hannibal’s tongue in deeper. Hannibal laughed, deep and rolling, and his tongue burrowed in deeper. His fingers followed, wet from his tongue and pushed in deep. His tongue returned to Will’s cock, wrapping around the shaft, jacking it roughly and teasing the head with prickles of the forked ends. 

He came too quickly; Hannibal’s fingers knew just where to push and rub, agile tongue rubbing and dancing over his cock. Every drop of his orgasm was consumed, Hannibal’s tongue licking it up like a greedy child devouring candy. 

Will was limp and sated, but hollow until Hannibal lay beside him on the floor, curled protectively around him and letting Will wrap his arms around him. Once he was holding on to Hannibal, the hollowness eased, the empty spaces inside filling with the demon’s essence, his scent and heat, the feel of his body wrapped around Will’s. A deep purring rose from the demon’s throat, and Will’s head moved to lay on his chest, listening to it rumble down deep. Hannibal’s tongue lapped at the sticky mess on Will’s face, and he could feel something slithering along his leg. 

A tail wrapped around Will’s upper thigh, pulling one leg over Hannibal’s and coiling to make sure it stayed there. After a moment, Will sighed, a deep contentment growing as he was surrounded on all sides by Hannibal. The purring noise made his eyes droop a little, and his hand stroked the tail wrapped around his leg. 

**I said you’d never be alone again, little goldfish, and I meant it.** The words rolled in Will’s head like thunder, and they brought a smile to his lips. 

**Stop reading my mind, Hannibal.**

**No.**

The End


	11. jean and luke rimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Le Chiffre (Jean Duran) comes home after a trip, expecting to be met by his boyfriend, Luke Brandon. He finds out why Luke wasn't at the airport.

The first thing Jean had done when he got home was to literally drop his suitcase by the door, take off his jacket, and look for Luke. He'd expected Luke to pick him up at the airport, and was a bit miffed that he had had to hire a car (not a taxi, are you joking? Those things are filthy.) to bring him back to the penthouse. 

Of course, that all trickled away in a heartbeat when he realized *why* Luke hadn't been by the airport to pick him up. 

He was also planning to commit some mayhem, but that could definitely wait until he'd figured out who'd left him this beautiful, wonderful present (because really, anyone who touched Luke like this was probably going to end up dead, despite the pretty, pretty packaging. Ends did NOT justify hands on his boy.) 

Because Luke was tied down flat on the bed, every extremity stretched and bound to a corner of the bed frame. His eyes were covered by a blindfold, which he was not particularly happy with, although it was a gorgeous highlight. Luke's tongue was working behind his jaw, pushing (licking?) against whatever gag happened to be stretching his lips. A ball chain with a key was draped around Luke's neck, and it was most obviously to the locked cage around Luke's cock. 

A white tent of a note was resting on Luke's stomach, and Jean picked it up. 

*Hello, cher. I'm sorry I didn't get you picked up at the airport, but I was a little indisposed. Thought you might like a little present after your long trip. Have fun unwrapping. Love, L.* 

Jean did still wonder who had helped Luke get all dolled up, but at the moment, that was very far in the back of his head. He came into the bedroom and sat on the edge, reaching up to pull off Luke's blindfold. "Good afternoon, cher," he said softly, stroking over Luke's bare chest. "I'm home." 

Luke felt weight on the side of the mattress, and if he hadn't been bound, he'd have rolled towards the dipping mattress. The blindfold removed, and he grinned as much as he could around the gag. He'd missed Jean so fucking much, hated like fuck he'd been gone for a goddamn week. He tipped his chin up, making the squat penis-shaped gag wiggle with his tongue and asking him to pull it out. 

"No, not yet." Jean was content at the moment to touch and stroke, his fingers gliding over Luke's slick skin. His palms stroked over straining arm muscles, kneaded taut thighs, even teased tensed calves. "Not until I play first." 

Luke made a frustrated sound, lifting his whole body into Jean's caressing hands. Jean was touching him all over, teasing with his fingertips, scraping with his nails, massaging with the heel of his hands. Even though the blindfold was gone, Luke still felt overwhelmed, not sure of where the next kiss or next touch was going to fall. 

Jean had a definite goal in mind. He moved to the other side of the bed, lowering his mouth to start kissing down Luke's neck. He dragged his tongue down Luke's breastbone, listening to his muffled whimpers and begs. But Jean didn't let those noises stop him; he continued down, circling Luke's navel with his tongue and then thrusting in and teasing. 

His toes were curling, and his heels were digging into the mattress. Luke was moaning, hard, and he could feel his belly twitching as Jean's warm breath drifted over his skin. The wet lick of tongue over his bellybutton was a torment that he couldn't escape, and he was *mortified* to hear the soft tinkle of the lock banging against the metal cage around his cock as it twitched and quivered. 

Jean heard the tinkling too, and he pulled up short, blowing a kiss towards the bound organ. Luke shuddered hard at the ghosting of breath over the leaking head of his cock, whining deep in his throat even as he sucked hard on the rubber in his mouth. 

He wasn't even tempted to relieve Luke yet; he'd missed the boy too much while he was gone, and he was going to take full advantage of things. But he did feel pity for his boy, and moved to lay between his outstretched legs. He enjoyed the view of Luke's caged cock, reaching up to tease the free-hanging balls, then sucked each one into his mouth for a lick and a kiss. 

Luke's wrists were straining against the leather cuffs and silk restraints. His fists were balled up as he tried to reach down and grab Jean's hair to drag him up for either a kiss or a blow job, possibly both. His feet were flat as he arched his back, trying to loosen things up enough for him to move, wrap his legs around his boyfriend and pull him tight, to rub their bodies together until come ran hot and thick between them. 

Jean's restraining hand came up and pressed gently against Luke's stomach, holding him still and calming him with little strokes. "Jean is going to take care of you, boy," he murmured against Luke's skin. "Going to kiss you and lick you, take my tongue and make you ready to scream, cry, beg to come, and maybe if you're good, I will take that key and let you come." 

Luke groaned, "Yes, please!" even though it was muffled by the penis gag, and he sucked hard on it. HE wished it was Jean's, but he wanted more of what Jean was going to do to him first. 

And Jean gave it, his tongue licking down even as his fingers rose to pry his cheeks apart. "Relax for me," he said softly, his thumb moving to rub over Luke's opening. "Relax, lay loose for me." 

Luke couldn't have relaxed if he wanted to. Everything was dancing along his skin like lightning, and he was sensitized to every single breath that Jean blew over him, every hair twitching. But he did his best, trying to remain as loose and calm as he possibly could manage. 

Jean kept rubbing his thumb over Luke's opening, waiting until he felt a loosening in the tightly-held muscle. He kissed each of Luke's cheeks, then moved to lick the hole with the tip of his tongue. He licked insistently until he felt a little squeeze against the muscle, and then his tongue slipped in deeper. He moved his body closer, his hands moving now that his tongue was in, and put his hands on Luke's hips, holding them still and pulling him down harder so he could fit the length of his tongue into Luke's opening. 

The scream was only *just* muffled by the gag, which is why Jean had left it in to begin with. Jean's tongue was a strong thrust in his hungry body, and his cock throbbed. His balls were tight with the need to come, but he wasn't allowed because of the cage. The hairs on his arms were standing up, and he was fighting the urge to tense up, bear down, push back, fuck hard. His toes curled, and he strained to wrap his legs around Jean's shoulders. 

Jean chuffed a breath of laughter at Luke's enthusiastic reaction, and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the thrusts of his tongue, the tip wiggling with each thrust, dragging it out slowly, scraping his teeth across the outside of the pucker. He could feel the tension in Luke's body, and he dropped his hands to slide them down Luke's legs. He didn't unfasten the cuffs, but he did massage the strained legs as he sucked and licked. 

Luke was near tears with frustration. His cock was a painful ache between his legs, and Jean's tongue was not nearly enough penetration to sate the hunger growing behind his eyes. He wanted to touch, *needed* to feel Jean's skin, his hair, his lips, kiss him and devour him, ride him hard. But he was reduced to inarticulate sounds behind the gag as his hips rocked onto Jean's tongue. 

Jean's tongue sped up, thrusting hard and slicking the little hole with his saliva. His thumb came back to rub over the hole, sliding in to replace his tongue as he kissed the back of Luke's thighs and kissed up to his cock. "Quiet, my darling," Jean whispered softly, as his free hand pulled at the chain around Luke's neck.

The ball chain popped loose, and the key to the cock cage fell into Jean's hand. He tightened his grip around it, and brought it down to the cage. His tongue worked back in to replace his thumb, and then blindly groped until the key clicked into the lock. 

Luke sobbed behind the gag, his hips rocking upwards as soon as the cage fell away. He pled for touch with every motion of his body, and Jean's tongue was thrusting and licking for all he was worth. 

Jean touched him. 

Luke saw stars when Jean's hand wrapped around his cock. He was almost ashamed that's all it took for his cock to explode, the familiar touch of Jean's hand, but he nearly wept with the satisfaction. His back arched to almost breaking as he pushed into the tight grip around his cock, fingernails scratching at the sheets as he came. 

Surprise rocked through Jean at the near-instant orgasm, but he didn't stop. His tongue wiggled hard inside Luke's body, edges curling to try and fit further, deeper in. He didn't stop until Luke was still, and he finally withdrew his tongue. Moving up, he pulled the gag out, and listened to Luke's harsh pants and little wheezes. 

No, the wheezes were his own. His breathing was harsh, and he felt the weight of his inhaler press against his chest. He pulled the platinum inhaler out, taking two deep breaths, and tucked it back in his pocket. 

His fingers unhooked Luke's wrist, and Luke took care of the rest, pulling Jean up to rest against his shoulder. "Hey, breathe," he said hoarsely, putting his hand on Jean's fully-clothed chest. He loosened his lover's tie, pulling it off and dropping it to the floor as he rubbed. "In and out, slow and easy." 

Jean closed his eyes, listening to the rise and fall of Luke's breathing and matching his own to the same calm pace. The inhaler was doing its work, and Luke's fingers stroking through his hair did the rest. "I'm all right," Jean finally said, breathing naturally. 

"Yeah, I know, but I'm still not letting you go." Luke kept rubbing Jean's back, fingers petting and stroking his hair. "Let me get my legs free, and I'll make you something hot." 

Jean shook his head. "Stay where you are." He wasn't going to let Luke out of the bed for the rest of the night.

The End


	12. jean and luke, somnophilia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke wakes Jean up with a bit of early morning sex.

Luke stood in the bedroom door, studying the naked man in his bed. Jean was exceptionally beautiful in sleep, cares drifting away and softening his face. A light red stained the pillowcase, from where his damaged eye had leaked in the night. His heart squeezed faintly as he watched his lover sleep. He was lucky enough to have Jean; he'd do anything to keep him and protect him. 

Not that he needed protection as such, because Jean was quite capable on his own. But the instinct was there nonetheless; protection and love twined together until the need to care for Jean nearly choked him. 

"Come back to bed." The words were sleepy, barely spoken, and gruff from overnight's lack of use. Jean's eyes weren't even open, he just instinctively faced the door, and Luke. "Pull the shades, chere, and come back to bed." 

"Oui." Luke closed the bedroom window drapes, pushing the early morning sun back out and leaving their bedroom in darkness. "Go back to sleep." He slid into bed beside his lover, and Jean moved back to press against him. Luke covered them both with the blanket, and their feet tangled together as Luke pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. 

Jean gave a satisfied grumble, arching back into Luke's warmth and getting as close as he could. No other words were forthcoming, and Luke slid his arm over Jean's hip and pulled their bodies flush. The curve of Jean's ass tucked perfectly into Luke's groin, their knees tucked together, and his mouth could easily reach neck and shoulders. They fit like puzzle pieces, and Luke felt the same squeezing of his heart again. 

"Je t'aime, ma chere." Luke whispered it softly into Jean's ear, and nuzzled behind it. Jean exhaled softly, and Luke listened hard for a wheeze. It never came, and he settled back into his skin. He hated the asthma, he hated the blood tears, he hated everything that made Jean worry about anything. His fingers stroked over Jean's skin while his lips traced tiny little kisses over his shoulder. 

Jean's cologne left faint traces on his skin, even after showering, and Luke nosed into it. The spicy, musky scent irritated his sinuses in the most wonderful way, worming into his brain and reminding him of Jean last night, white shirt rolled up to his sleeves, open at the neck, and swearing in French at the computer when it didn't do his way. 

Luke had done exactly this same thing; nosed gently into his neck, kissed his throat, and slowly teased him away from the misbehaving spreadsheet and into their bed . He had a suspicion that Jean knew that the cologne always made him restless, and that's why he wore it. Restless, of course, being a euphemism for horny little fucker. 

Both sides of the bed had lube available, and he reached behind himself and found his bottle by touch. He squirted into his hands, hissing silently at the cold temperature, and warmed it between his hands before stroking it along the length of his cock and especially the head. His slick fingers made it easy to find Jean's opening and he slowly pressed the head of his cock against the tight muscle. Groaning softly in his sleep, Jean shifted his legs and Luke's cock slid slowly and carefully inside. 

Luke was biting his lip to stay quiet as he eased into his lover. Short, shallow rolls of his hips set a sweet, leisurely pace, and Jean's mouth fell open. His breathing was quicker, harsher than it had been, and Luke couldn't help stealing a kiss. 

Fingers found their way into Luke's hair, and Jean stretched, arching his back and tightening around Luke's cock as it stroked inside him. The kiss deepened, and that's when Jean's eyes opened. "Thought I was having a dream," he murmured into Luke's mouth, pressing back into the gentle touches. 

"Not this time." Luke's lips curved into a smile as he kissed down Jean's cheek, then onto his shoulder. "Just me." 

"Never just." Jean moved back into Luke's slow thrusts, keeping his legs apart and inviting Luke deeper. "You're always what I want to wake up to." He pulled one of Luke's still-slick hands down to wrap around his erection. "See? All for you." 

Luke groaned softly as he tightened his fingers around Jean's cock. The lube on his fingers made stroking it a dream, and he shivered just a little. Long, slow strokes that started at his balls and followed to the tip of his head and back down again, matching the lazy lovemaking. He loved Jean like this, sleep-softened and sweet, before the business of the day crashed onto his shoulders. "All mine." He nosed a tiny bite onto Jean's earlobe, sucking the sting almost instantly. 

A long, soft groan issued out of Jean's lips, and he curled a little tighter into Luke's body. The change in position meant a change in angle, and Luke's cock was able to push in just a little deeper. The groan turned into a sharp cry as Luke's cock stroked over Jean's prostate, and he wiggled against Luke. "Again, chere, please?" Jean's hand joined Luke's, stroking together as he lifted to meet Luke's thrusts. 

"Sssh ssh, of course." Luke soothed Jean with kisses, his cock throbbing inside the tightness of Jean's opening. He thrust in deep, pushing hard, and felt Jean's hand tighten on his own. He let his lover set the pace, and in moments, Jean was coming. Over both their hands, on the sheets, and Luke didn't care. He stayed still as Jean's orgasm finished washing over, and only then did he start moving again, happy that Jean had come first and satisfactorily. 

It was almost an anticlimax when Luke came, the tight heat and clasp of Jean's body a welcoming feeling around his throbbing cock. He eased himself out, rubbing the head of his cock over the stretched opening before letting himself fall limp and sated. 

Jean rolled over onto his back, and Luke climbed onto his stomach, eyes twinkling as he looked down at his lover. "Good morning," Jean drawled slowly, letting his fingertips slide up and down Luke's thighs. 

"Good morning yourself," Luke answered back, almost shyly as he leaned in for a nuzzling kiss. 

Jean kissed him deeply, tongue thrusting deep to taste and hands in Luke's messy hair to hold him still. "Thank you," was whispered into his mouth when the kiss broke, and Luke could almost taste the words on his tongue. 

"I love you." That's all that he needed to say. 

End


	13. Frederick's Unconventional Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick Chilton requires a bit of assistance with his unruly patient, Will Graham. Featuring the new lawyer representing BSHCI, Rafael Barba

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: fisting, tw: object insertion, tw: threesome, bottom!Will, and blink-and-you-miss-it Brownham.

"Dr. Chilton, I assume you've called me here for a legitimate reason this time, because I am quite tired of being called from my office to simply waste my time with your morbid attempts at covering your ass."

"Oh, yes. I did call you here for a very good reason. I have a recalcitrant patient that I'm embarking on a very special therapy with, and I require your assistance. For what its worth, the patient has signed a waiver."

"Given that your patient is probably crazy as a bag of cats, I don't imagine it's worth anything."

"Mr. Barba, I assure you, you are going to enjoy this kind of therapy with our patient." Chilton passed him a folder, including photographs. "This is Will Graham, and he's... a little out of control."

Rafael took the folder and looked through the photographs, paging through the mostly-naked shots of Will and what looked like an orderly. "I see. And the therapy that you're suggesting is?"

"I need assistance making sure that Mr. Graham receives everything he's looking for." Chilton clasped his hands on top of his cane. "You see, Mr. Barba, he's quite a greedy little man, and I just don't think I've got enough to satisfy him on my own."

Barba finished paging through everything. "This has got to be the most ridiculous thing that you've ever called me in for yet. That you would think I'd even consider participating--"

"He asked for you by name, Mister Barba." Chilton took the folder back, and left Rafael holding only the photographs of Will being fucked against the therapy cage through the bars. "Seems to think you're the sane option here."

"I will require a waiver, signed by you, as curator of the facility, that this therapy was completely your idea, agreed to by the patient, and brought to my attention only after I was mentioned by name. I want it notarized, sealed, and delivered to my office in one week."

"Done." Chilton took the photos back and tucked them into the folder, and turned towards the back of the office. "This way, Mister Barba. I do hope you've cleared your calendar." 

"I always do coming here. I never know what you're going to have in store for me." 

"Oh, before we leave." Frederick paused by the filing cabient, retrieving a bottle of Astroglide and a box of condoms.

Barba rolled his eyes and followed Chilton down the staircase. The bastard didn't even need the cane any more, he was walking just fine without out. He had a sneaking suspicion that cane was used solely for decorative and possibly sexual purposes, because it was entirely too easy to imagine that cane penetrating some naughty patient's orifices. 

Chilton was carefully navigating the stairs. He was swinging the cane with every step, using it to mostly keep his balance as he hit the first landing. "He'll be waiting for us in the therapy area, but since we've agreed on this rather unconventional therapy, we'll be swiftly moving to a more private area."

"I would hope that this private area is not under surveillance," is all Barba had to say. "Unlike the other photographs I've just seen, I'd just like to make certain I don't star in your next photo set," Rafael said calmly. 

"Of course not. Audio and visual surveillance are forbidden in the privacy rooms, and the one I have in mind has no walls or windows," Chilton explained, and motioned for the orderly--the Brown kid, the one that was riding Will Graham in the photos. "Here, unlock Mr. Graham's shackles, please, we're going to be stepping into one of the private rooms with Mr. Barba, who is the hospital's new attourney."

Matthew looked very put out at the mention of moving Will to a private room--mostly because it would mean he wouldn't be able to observe for his later private pleasure. But he did as he was told, unlocking Will's shackles and massaging his wrists for him. "Looks like your therapy's getting delayed, Mr. Graham."

Will eyed the new lawyer, making no hesitation to eye him from head to toe and back up again. "Maybe not." 

"This way, please." Chilton took Will by the bicep and started steering him towards the hallway that led to the privacy rooms.

Will didn't hesitate or fight against Chilton's steering hand. Normally he wouldn't stand the bastard's hand anywhere near him, but since that afternoon with Matthew in the cage, Will's attitudes towards things were changing, especially about sex. He was actually finding Chilton attractive, or maybe he was just desperate. Either way...

"Thank you, Mr. Barba, for agreeing to help with this," he said as they were marching down the hall. "You don't know how much I appreciate this."

"Tell me something, Mr. Graham. Did you actually sign a waiver requesting this?" They all paused as a group in front of the room, and Chilton used a keycard to unlock the door.

"I certainly did." The door swung open, and Will brushed past Barba and Chilton and laid on the narrow bed on his stomach, feet towards the wall and face towards Barba.

The door closed with a heavy clank, and both Barba and Chilton looked at each other. Chilton raised his brows, and without hestiation started stripping the taupe suit off. Will was doing much the same, pulling his institutional jumpsuit down and shimmying it down over his hips. 

He kicked a shoe at the wall, making Matthew jump backwards from the peephole he was watching through and heaving a deep breath before pressing his eye back against the hole.

By the time Will's jumpsuit and underwear were on the floor, Chilton's clothes had been carefully folded over the only chair in the room. His jacket and shirt were folded over the chair back, his shoes were sitting on the seat with his socks tucked neatly into them, his tie was lying across his shoes and socks, and Barba scowled when he turned around. There was a large scar down the front of Chilton's stomach. 

Will Graham reached out, running his fingers over the scar. Chilton flinched back when Will touched the scar, and Will's arms looped around his waist and drew him in. He dragged his tongue along the raised flesh, leaving a line of sloppy wet kisses behind. 

Chilton gasped as Will's tongue licked the scar, and it made his cock twitch. "Will."

"Yes, Dr. Chilton?" He answered between licks to the line of Chilton's hipbone, and then ended with a kiss to the head of his cock.

Barba had been frozen in disbelief, but when he saw Will embracing Chilton, he realized that this was actually going to happen. That was a bit of a surprise for him, because he'd expected some kind of elaborate prank, but he was actually being expected to participate in sex. 

There were a series of pegs on the wall, and Barba used those to hold his clothes. His jacket and vest went on the first peg, his shirt and tie on the second, his trousers on the third. Underwear, socks, and shoes went on the chair beside Chilton's, and Rafael moved closer to the bed. On the one hand, he was waiting to be directed, but on the other hand? 

He reached for the Astroglide bottle in Chilton's coat, and made the mistake of letting his eyes drop. 

Will had completely engulfed Chilton's cock in his throat to the balls, slurping messily as he bobbed his head. Will's fingers pushed between Chilton's cheeks, and Rafael's eyes widened. His arm reached around and dribbled the gel between Chilton's cheeks, and Will groaned softly as he pushed his fingers in past the knuckle.

Barba followed Will's example, slicking up his fingers before pressing two of them between Will's cheeks. 

Another groan, and Will pulled himself up to his knees, spreading his legs and keeping them open for Barba's fingers. His own fingers kept Chilton speared, his in and out motions keeping Chilton's hips thrusting and cock sliding in and out.

Will was careful to avoid Frederick's prostate as his fingers thrust in. He was determined to have Barba's cock inside him before he even came close to letting Frederick come. He was going to have to work for it. 

Grunting softly, Will pulled his mouth off Chilton's cock and his fingers out of his body. The loss of heat on his cock made him whimper, and Will dragged Frederick down to his knees and kissed him hard. No sentiment or softness behind the kiss, just a battle of tongues and teeth as he pushed back against Barba's fingers. 

"I want you on my face." Will ground his words into Frederick's lips, and he wrapped his hand around Chilton's wet cock to stroke it. "Keep your fingers where they are."

A deep breath, and Will turned himself onto his back. His insides corkscrewed around Barba's fingers, but quickly relaxed and opened again. He led Frederick by the cock to the side of the cot, and then yanked. "On my face," Will demanded again, letting his legs fall to either side of the bed.

Chilton followed the pull on his cock to climb atop Will's chest. He straddled carefully, resting his weight on Will's chest as he wrapped a hand around Will's. Together, they guided Frederick's cock back into Will's mouth as Chilton's knees landed on either side of his shoulders. Will lifted his head, and Chilton's fingers slid through Will's thick curls. 

Barba groaned loudly when Will twisted around his fingers, and when the man had settled, he added a third. Will's cock was already hard, and he was trying to take in everything. The heat around his fingers, the sight of Chilton fucking Will Graham's face as hard as he could, Will's fingers seeking their earlier home between his cheeks. 

A fourth finger slid in, and Will groaned again, his toes curling against the cold cement of the floor. He brought one leg up to rest on Barba's hip, pulling him onto the bed. More lube, more stretching, and Rafael's thumb slid in along the other fingers. 

"What... what are you doing?" Chilton asked, fingers tight in Will's hair. "This boy is going wild."

Rafael just smirked at Chilton's back. "Nothing you need to worry about it, Dr. Chilton. We're just getting started." A little more lube got dripped around Barba's wrist, and he shifted his fingers together, thumb folding in to form a fist. A little insistent pressure, and Will's opening took him just past the wrist.

Will's eyes were closed, and he'd given himself completely over to Rafael's fingers and Frederick's cock. He was lost in the darkness, chasing memories that were just beyond his conscious reach, and the sensations buffeting him brought them closer and closer to his mind. 

His muscles tightened around Barba's fist, grunting as he tried to first push it out, and then to pull it in deeper. Rafael allowed neither, his hand braced on Will's stomach keeping him flat and still under Chilton's weight. When Will's struggles quieted a little, that's when Barba moved, pushing in just a half inch deeper before pulling out. The rim of muscle bulged at the thickest part of his thumb, and Will gave a scream muffled by Frederick's cock in his throat. 

Will closed his throat, keeping Frederick buried to the hilt, his fingers stabbing deep to keep him from moving. Dark stars glittering behind closed eyelids, and he pushed against Barba's fist as it punched back into him. Each push in was harder than the previous, and one pressed hard against Will's prostate.

Will gasped, choking around Chilton's hard cock as his eyes snapped open. His untouched cock twitched against his belly, and Barba laughed under his breath. "Let me out, Will," he murmured softly. His hand was still braced against Will's stomach, and slowly, carefully he worked his fingers free of Will's opening. 

The removal of his fingers left Will's hole gaping, and Barba watched a moment in fascination as the stretched muscle still tried to twitch around the removed hand. A hard groan left Chilton's throat, and he arched his neck back. 

Barba's fingers threaded through Chilton's head and yanked him back, so that he landed fully on Will's penetrating fingers. His tongue licked over Chilton's throat, teeth dragging down a lightly scruffy neck. He completely forgot, didn't care about, the condoms that Chilton had brought down, and the head of his cock pressed against Will's hole. 

The stretched muscle gave lazily, letting Barba's cock penetrate to the hilt in a single thrust.

Will let his eyes drift closed again, leaving only small slits. The image of Barba leaving purple hickeys on Chilton's throat was a godsend, a beautiful picture that should be hung in a goddamn museum. 

Barba dragged Chilton's head far enough back to kiss his mouth, and his cock drove deep into Will as he got closer and closer to Chilton. He'd kiss Will if he could reach, but Chilton was in the way and so he got the brunt of it. Barba's tongue pushed into Chilton's mouth, tasting a faint hint of Will and cock on his tongue. 

Chilton was caught between Will's fingers in his ass, his cock in Will's throat, and Rafael's tongue in his mouth. He couldn't decide which way to go, and let his lovers shift him around. 

Barba hauled him backwards, pulling Frederick's cock out of Will's mouth and slapping him in the cheek with it. Will's hand rose to grab Frederick's cock again, and Barba let him stroke while he pushed hard into Will's ass.

Chilton's hand reached behind himself and wrapped a hand around Will's cock, stroking it hard as he bounced on Will's fingers. Barba helped him further down, helping Frederick by steadying Will's cock and easing down on it. 

Will's empty mouth groaned loudly, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. Frederick was stroking his own cock now, riding Will's erection with almost savage bucks of his hips. 

Barba was moving with deliberate slowness, in complete opposite of the desperate tempo of Chilton's fucking. His mouth kissed over Chilton's neck and shoulders, hands going to his hips to slow his riding and guide him into a slow, satisfying pace. 

Will's fingers sought out Frederick's cock and stroked it, trying to urge him to speed back up as he jerked roughly. He wanted to feel the drip of hot come on his face and down his throat, things that seemed so familiar hovering just at the edge of his awareness. 

Chilton and Barba were finally moving together, the same pace riding Will's cock as was fucking him. Will was trying to squirm, push down to get Rafael to thrust faster, buck up to get Chilton to ride harder. But neither man gave him the roughness he was craving. 

Barba could just barely reach it, but his fingers closed around Frederick's walking cane. He pressed the tip of the cane against Will's mouth, tapping it gently against his teeth to get him to open up and suck.

Will's mouth opened obediently as the cane tip slid into his mouth. It was much nicer than the other places Frederick liked to shove it, and his tongue licked and sucked at the dips and curves of the metal head.

Chilton groaned as he watched Will fellating his walking stick; he was imagining the feel of the knob under his hand warm and slick from Will's mouth, and he shuddered. His opening twitched around Will's cock, squeezing it hard and causing Will's body to buck and tremble. 

Barba held Will down by the hips, drilling into him harder now that they were all turned on. He made sure they all kept the same rhythm, or close to it, so that everyone was going to enjoy it as much as possible. 

Frederick came first, stroking the hot ropes of his orgasm all over Will's face and chest. It landed in thick white splats, clinging to his eyelashes and cheeks, lips and tongue and chest. Each pulse of his cock had his ass tightening around Will's cock, and Will couldn't hold off any longer. Hard jerks of his cock spilled his hot seed inside Frederick's tight hole, and his own hole jerked around Rafael's cock. 

Barba was fighting the urge to come, and he was able to push it down long enough for both Chilton and Will to come first. But the heavy scent of sex in the room, the thick layer of come on Will's face, the squeezing around his cock was overwhelming, and Barba felt himself quaking as his orgasm released inside of Will's welcoming body.

All three men were panting in a single, damp pile. Will's head lolled to the side, eyes meeting Matthew's through the hole in the wall and giving him a lascivious smile. "So how did the first session go?" Chilton asked, as soon as he could speak without huffing. 

Will contemplated that question as he felt Barba slide out of him. He was going to be stiff and sore as hell from the lawyer's fisting, but it was a slow burn of agony that he welcomed. Pain kept him on the edge, and he could think clearly. "I think I'm going to require several more sessions," he finally got out, winking at Frederick. 

Chilton flushed red, and carefully dismounted the cot. Will's cock slid out of him, and he could feel a warm drip down the back of his thighs. "I believe that could be arranged, if Mr. Barba were willing to accommodate us in his schedule."

Barba leaned back against the bedrail, leaning over to lick a stripe of cooling semen off Will's lips and feed it to him in a kiss. "I think I could be convinced," he added with a grin. 

End


End file.
